Shimmerscale:TheSnakeWhoLived
by Nathair Bhinse
Summary: Harry starts to realize that they may have the wrong name listed as the Boy-Who-Lived. Events unfold that point the young wizard to a shocking truth that will have the whole of the wizarding world on their knees with worry by the end of his first year.
1. A Blessing, not a curse: Pt1

**Disclaimer: **

I don't own anything to do with the Harry Potter universe, J. K Rowling has that honor, I'm just

borrowing them for my twisted ideas...

I also don't own anything that Dudley maybe viewing on his hideous Telly at anytime in this fic,

unless the AN at the bottom of the Fic says so.

**Pairings:**

None at the moment. Mostly Canon in the future. No Slash.

**Warnings:**

Will contain mild child abuse, language, violence and gore (but nothing overly) and severe

spoilers for all seven books. This will also have a dark, but not evil Harry in it...He has to be for

the plot to work out.

**Author's Notes:**

Ok, this will be my second HP fic, the first one, Harry Potter and the Sapphire King is currently

on hold due to the fact that it is in need of a rewrite and some major re-formatting. This one will

be extremely AU in many cases. Although I will try to follow all seven books as best as I can,

remember, most of the stuff will be AU. Many Canon happenings that are major events will

happen, though some of the players will be different and most of the personalities will be Canon

except for those who have to change for the plot to play out properly.

Because this is an AU fic, some things will happen that are NOT Canon to the HP world, but

that's why it is called an AU fic. I will, however, try to keep all the non Canon stuff as believable

as possible.

I know people love to sort Harry into Slytherin, and in my mind he does indeed belong there, and

I know it is has become rather popular in many fics. I will try to make this a little different than

the others you may have read with Harry being sorted into said house.

And this fic will not have any Slash in it, but there will be a Gay wizard character who is

important to this series. He won't show up much at all in First year, but will become a fixed

character by Third.

There will also be quite a few OC s in here, mostly students; this is due to the fact that not much

is known about why certain folk have a personality the way they do and instead of just tweaking

those well known characters, I will just add new ones in. Fear not, you will still see the main

Canon characters even if they don't play a major part in most of the fic.

Some parts might happen a bit fast, this is intended, mostly because I want to get the story started, not draw it out for ages before anything actually happens. Too many fics loose interest due to such

things. But I will try to keep it from being 'rushed into' as some have put it.

Wow, a lot to read before you get to the fic! But just one more thing...I do not have a Beta, so if

you find something that needs to be fixed, give me a hoot.

**Summary:** Harry starts to realize that they may have the wrong name listed as the

Boy-Who-Lived. Events unfold that point the young wizard to a shocking truth that will have the

whole of the wizarding world on their knees with worry by the end of his first year. Will he

accept his Father and side with him? Will he rise to his own power? Or will he choose to be

'The-Snake-That-Lived' and save the world?

**Rating:**

T - Just to be safe, maybe rated M later on in the series.

Extra Notes: _‟Parseltongue"_, ‟Normal Speech", _'Thoughts'_, ***events***

Chapter 1: A blessing, not a curse. Part 1

***Sigh***_ 'How do I keep getting myself into these situations?'_

A smallish young boy lay silently on a rather messy mattress, not that anyone would notice that fact

seeing as the room both he and said bed were being kept in was pitch black at the moment. He

was trying hard to view his crippled hand, holding it just inches away from his face in hope of

catching a glimpse of the wounds that were causing him so much pain. But it was a futile

attempt. There just wasn't enough of the early morning light filtering in from the open vent in his

door to give him an idea of the kind of 'fixing up' he was going to need when he got out of here.

Sighing heavily again, the small boy rolled over to face the door, keeping his eyes on the vent for

any signs of the 'shadow' that would liberate him from this evil prison he was doomed to live in

for the rest of his life. Half an hour passed without a single sound and still no movement was

detected outside the cupboard under the stairs. More light was starting to shine in now and the boy

raised his hand up to his face for what seemed like the eighteenth time in that whole hour he had

been trying to see his hand.

Now he could see them clearly. The wounds on his right hand were smaller than the ones on his

left, which was the one he had been thinking was permanently crippled, yet they were still bad

enough that he had to suppress a hiss each time he used it. The more he looked at his left hand,

the more he knew that his Aunt did indeed hate his guts more than she hated a mess in her

spotless house. Angry red welts were forming under white blisters where burn scars could be

seen, and the bones in his fingers were bent at odd angles on top of that. One would never guess

that this injury was from a frying pan that had been used to beat the small hand just because of a

little grease spill in the kitchen; really, his hand had already been punished by the bacon grease,

was the beating with the hot pan necessary?

_'Obviously'_ he thought darkly, as he started to sit up on the bed, holding his left hand up against

his chest in order to protect it from being bumped in any way.

A creak from above forced the young boy to lean as close to the door as his small frame would

allow so that he could check the identity of the creak before relaxing. No need to be happy if it

wasn't his 'shadow'. Sure enough, the silhouette of a rather large and round man floated toward

the vent and the sound of two padlocks being removed was music to the small boy's ears.

The door opened and the 'shadow' reached in to ever so gently pull the injured lad out into the hall, appraising his small form with slightly watering eyes.

‟She really did a job on you this time. You alright there Harry?" he asked in a low whisper, his mustache twitching in a manner that answered his own question.

Harry looked up at his savior and shrugged his tiny shoulders. ‟As alright as I can be Uncle Vernon."

Vernon nodded quickly and led Harry away from the cupboard and into the dining area. The two

took a seat at the table and started to go over the wounds that were bothering the boy the most. It

took little over an hour for them to get his hand bandaged up enough that he could do his chores

without hurting it too much and not get it infected. Once they were both satisfied with the results,

Vernon headed back upstairs to put away the supplies he had been using and Harry headed into

the kitchen to start breakfast.

Soon the house was filled with the smells of coffee, bacon, eggs and toast. Harry was glad that

his Aunt and Cousin normally chose to wait until he or Vernon called them down to eat before

rising out of bed. It gave him the time alone he wanted and needed to spend with his Uncle.

Vernon had always been there for Harry, since day one he has made it his job to look after Harry

whenever he needed it. Food, fixing up, clothes. True, he didn't step in to stop Harry's beatings

unless they were really bad, but that was hurting him more than the boy; really it was.

'The Boy' or 'Freak' as Petunia referred to him, was a godsend, a blessing in Vernon's eyes.

Magic had always fascinated him since he was a small lad himself and to find out that there were

people who actually lived by it only made him want to steal the child away into this magical

world that he belonged to even more. Though he would never tell his wife or child this, oh no.

This was his and Harry's secret only, well Mrs. Figg was in on it too, and that was only because

she had been mumbling to herself one evening about Kneazles and Hogwarts, and Vernon being the excitable person he was, had

literally chased her all the way back to her house to beg more information about the wizarding

world. His excuse was that he needed and wanted to understand his nephew better and would of course relay the information back to the boy as well. Vernon knew all about Hogwarts and most of the wizarding world from his chats

with Mrs. Figg, when he could afford to escape from the house and not be noticed by his wife or

spy of a son, who both thought he was on the same page as them when it came to the ‟Freak".

But they were just being fooled by a rather excellent actor. Vernon had always been afraid of

Petunia, for more than just the reason that she could use a frying pan on him. Oh no, she was

much more dangerous than even she knew. Petunia wasn't magical per say, but she could have

what Vernon and Harry now call 'fits'. It was where she somehow tapped into what little magic

must be inside her and preformed accidental magic and it was never noticed by her. When she

was angry, she could set things ablaze but never associate it with being magic. And the times

when she did notice it, the magic was blamed on Harry. No, Petunia did not know she caused

these things to happen, rare occasions that they are, and there was no need to tell her either, or

else she could start to use it to her advantage.

So on one hand, Vernon told Harry everything he knew about the wizarding world, even going as

far as asking Mrs. Figg for the addresses of several Muggle friendly witches and wizards who

kindly gave the large Muggle all he needed to know about raising a magical child. And on the

other hand, he played the part of the loathing Uncle who would shout at the boy and lock him in

the cupboard whenever Petunia and Dudley were near. Today was no different than any of the

other days. Vernon sat at the table reading his newspaper while Harry piled the food on the table

and stood ready to serve the two 'demons' when they came down. But this morning both Harry and Vernon

hesitated to call them. Instead, the two stood in silence, eyes twinkling madly as Harry pulled out

a letter that he had managed to sneak out of the mail a few weeks prior. As Vernon's eyes slid

down from Harry's grinning face to the letter he held in his hand, he too broke out in the wide

grin.

Harry had gotten his Hogwarts letter, which meant the two were going to get to visit Diagon

Alley soon. But right now they needed to get Petunia and Dudley fed, watered and packed.

Petunia was taking a four day holiday with Dudley to some strange group gathering. She had

wanted to bring Vernon along and leave the boy to tend to the house. But Vernon had told her

that was a bad idea, reminding her what happened last time the 'boy' was left at the house alone.

He had been red in the face through the whole conversion about it. To Petunia, it seemed he was too angry to say any

more on the matter at just the memory of what happened. But in reality, he had been trying hard

to stop himself from laughing like a mad hyena.

The three of them had gone out for two days on a business trip of Vernon's and had come home

to a forest of pink. Everything in the house was neon, glowing pink. The wallpaper, the paint, the

wood, the porcelain, the sheets, drapes, clothes...Even the water ran pink and the food in the Frig

was stained as such. Nothing was spared. Even the windows were tinted pink. Now at the time

they were all shocked, and Petunia was sure it was Harry's way of getting back at her and her

family for treating him poorly. She had locked the boy up in the cupboard for days while they

sorted out the house. The food was chucked out and the water ran pink for a few hours before

becoming normal again. But the house had to be repainted and the wallpaper needed redoing.

The wood faded back to normal and so did the windows, clothes, porcelain and Frig. Vernon had

taken Harry aside to ask him how it happened, only to get a simple, not quite as exciting as Vernon expected, answer.

‟Well I was thinking about how much Aunt Petunia would hate for me to leave that smear of

pink paint Dudley wiped on the floor because I couldn't clear it away. And as I thought about

it...I sneezed"

Seeing as both the demons were out at the time Harry confessed this, Vernon had no problem in

letting himself roar with laughter for a good ten minutes while Harry just smirked.

And that brought up another issue with Harry. He smirked a lot, very rarely did he grin or truly

smile, it was always a smirk if he did try to smile at all. Or a sneer if he was feeling extremely rebellious.

Grins and wide beaming smiles were reserved for times of bartering or simply to charm someone intodoing something they wouldn't normally do for him, or if he was REALLY happy.

Vernon noticed that the older Harry got, the more different he seemed. Gone were the bright,

innocent emerald eyes and raven black hair he used to sport. Now he had teal-ish eyes that

screamed supreme intelligence and deep, chocolate brown hair that seemed quite content with

just sitting flat on his head instead of sticking up like it used to. He was also thinner, but stronger

than before and his face, even though it was still childly round, looked less like the one picture

Vernon had of both of the boy's parents and more like a skeleton. His nose was a little flatter in a

sense, it didn't stick out quite as much and his lips were much thinner. All in all Harry was much too

gaunt for a boy his age.

But it was the difference in his personality that really made Vernon wonder if there was a spell

on Harry that was wearing off. The boy went from the shy, quiet and meek boy of before, to the

quiet, calm and deadly sly being that now stood before him, stuffing his letter back into the pocket of his pants.

Vernon always knew the boy could talk to snakes, that was obvious every time Harry went out

into the garden and ran across a snake there. Vernon would find him talking to said snake making

it do things that no one, not even a magical person should be able to make it do. This brought up

a question, well one of many, that Vernon asked his wizarding contacts about, but he didn't come

out and say his Nephew could do that, only asking if there was a spell that would allow him to speak to them because

he didn't want to hurt the little things but they were really messing up his garden.

Well they were none the wiser about the situation and stated that although there were no spells to allow such, there were people who could speak to snakes. The gossipers filled him in on Parselmouths and Salazar

Slytherin, letting him know that it was a dark and rare gift, one that the Dark Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had possessed.

Once this information made it back to Harry, the two vowed to keep it to themselves in

case someone wanted to hurt Harry for that ability. Back to Harry's personality, Vernon also

noticed that his accidental magic had become more dangerous with each passing year, really

coming to a peak last year with Harry having launched half the knife set at Petunia after she made

a rather nasty comment about Harry's mother. Thankfully, Petunia was on her way out of the

room so the knives missed her and landed in the wall behind her. She didn't even hear them land

and Vernon rushed over with a frightened grimace on his face to pull them out of the wall and put

them back in their proper place. He then covered up the incident by putting tacks in the wall with

chores attached to them so that no one would question the holes.

The really frightening part of the whole thing was that Harry's eyes had gone from teal, to scarlet

with slitted pupils, something Vernon knew had nothing to do with him just being a wizard.

Something was changing about Harry and it was not a good thing.

The two then started rummaging through their various routines. Vernon summoned his wife and

son and Harry went to clear away the mess he had left in the kitchen. Petunia's voice was soon

heard in the dining area, giving Vernon the run down on what she had packed in a singsong

sort of way. It sent shivers up Harry's spine in the kitchen and he was sure it was doing the same to

Uncle Vernon, who was no doubt sitting right next to her. The rest of the morning passed in a

rush, which Harry was grateful for; it meant his Aunt wouldn't have time to scold him while she

was busy getting her son ready to leave.

At half past noon, a cab pulled up in front of the house to receive both demons. But Vernon and

Harry couldn't escape Petunia that easy, she had one last thing to say before she left.

‟Don't blow up this house or my husband like your Freak parents did their house...Or else"

She had drawn out that last 'S' so long and perfectly, Harry had to stop himself from responding

in Parseltongue. ‟Yes ma'am" he replied obediently, his eyes locked firmly on hers to prove that he meant it.

With a sharp nod and brisk kiss on Vernon's cheek, Petunia herded Dudley out the door and

toward the cab. They had everything so they wouldn't be back until the end of the four day

gathering. This thought ran through both Harry's and Vernon's minds as they watched the cab

pull away from the curb and disappear around the corner.

They were alone...They had four completely demon free days to just be themselves...Oh...Four

days to explore Diagon Alley!

In a mad dash to waste not a single second of their freedom, Vernon and Harry ran through the

house and after changing clothes they both met at the front door with Cheshire Cat smiles planted

firmly on their faces. Next stop, Mrs. Figg's for a quick chat.

They trooped down the street, chatting idly about what they might see there and the possibility of

Vernon being able to move out of the house and divorcing Petunia.

‟Now that you have your letter, there is no way we can continue to pretend you and I are

enemies, I mean, she will figure out I took you to Diagon Alley" Vernon stated in a tone that

simply suggested that his idea was the only way to go.

Harry looked up with an amused expression before taking note that Vernon was getting ready to

start rambling. His face always took on that bored look, with his eyes being half closed and his

mustache twitching every two words.

‟Plus, I hate living this lie, it would be better for the both of us if we just moved in someplace

where you can be Magical and I can like it without repercussions." This time he flailed his arms

about in a fashion that imitated a wizard casting some complex spell. And Harry had to duck to

avoid being smacked by Vernon's right hand as it swept over his head. He didn't mind it and

Vernon didn't seem to notice the near perfect nose whacking he almost preformed.

This line of conversation went on for the duration of the walk and soon Mrs. Figg's house was

now upon them. Two knocked in unison, wanting to get over to Diagon Alley as fast as humanly

possible. They really didn't need Mrs. Figg or her permission to do it, but it would be polite at least to let her know

they were headed off there. She answered the door and looked the two over, noticing that Harry

was well dressed this time compared to every other time he had arrived on her doorstep.

‟Off to buy school supplies I guess?" she asked in a rather bored tone.

Vernon, who appeared to be the more excited of the two, quickly clasped his hands together in

front of him and wrung them tightly.

‟Yes, yes, we are headed off to Diagon Alley now, just thought we would let you know we

wouldn't be home at all till late-" he didn't even to bother finishing the sentence and he pushed

Harry away from the house with his hand between his shoulder blades. It was obvious to Figg

that he was really going to enjoy being in the Alley and she didn't see the quick departure as rude due to this.

‟Too bad all Muggles aren't as accepting of magic like you are Vernon..." she muttered as the

door closed on the two sprinting figures who were heading back to number four to fetch the car.

‟Would be nice to have a few more friendly faces around here..."

But neither Vernon nor Harry heard her because not only were they out of ear shot of her, they

were now screaming at each other as they ran.

‟I'll get there first you know that don't you? I'm smaller and fast as the wind!" Harry crowed. He

was so happy to be able to just let go with his Uncle. They never had the chance to do it before so

when Petunia had announced that she would be going away and taking Dudley with her, the two

were ecstatic.

Harry charged down the street, pushing his legs to go faster and faster, urging them with his

magic to carry him across the ground with the same speed that his serpentine friends could move

with. He was in front of Vernon by only two feet, but was gaining ground quickly.

‟Not if I have anything to say about it!"

Vernon then grabbed Harry by the seat of his pants and lifted him off the ground. He held Harry

out behind him, but continued to run toward the car with the young boy flying behind him by-the-

seat-of-his-pants...literally. Vernon's feet pounded the ground with such force, the sound echoed

off the houses around them.

‟Hey! What the-"

Harry looked around for some way of getting out of this situation long enough to get ahead of his

Uncle, who was cheating by holding him at arms length behind him. It was hard to look angry on

the outside, when on the inside he was bursting at the seams with laughter. If only he could

remember how he got away from Dudley that time and ended up on the roof...

‟Really Uncle Vernon this is cheating!"

But Vernon would hear nothing of the sort, he just cackled madly and picked up speed, plastering

a wicked grin on his previously closed lips. Harry was a rather light boy, and although he wasn't in the best of shape, Vernon found carrying the boy with one arm a pretty easy job; even with all of Harry's struggling. Finally he made to put the boy down just as they were about to reach the car, but there was one major dent in that plan...

Harry was already standing there in front of the car, leaning on it with his legs crossed and a smile plastered on his face.

With a groan, Vernon belatedly realized that there wasn't a weight on his outstretched arm anymore, and that Harry had preformed a miniature kind of Apparition, using it to free himself from his grasp to win the race. But just to make sure, Vernon looked back at his still closed fist. Nope, no boy.

‟Now that was cheating Harry...Very Sneaky-" Vernon chided while wagging his finger in

Harry's still grinning face, until his sentence was finished by a third person.

‟Like a snake tha' one"

Both man and boy froze in place and slowly turned to see who in the world they would have to

explain Harry's bit of magic to.


	2. A Blessing, not a curse: Pt2

Chapter 1: A blessing, not a curse. Part 2

The two turned their heads to face the voice slowly, both were still in the same position as  
before, with Vernon's right hand up near Harry's face, finger still extended, and Harry just  
standing stock still with his jaw down near his knees in shock. There, not more than twenty feet  
away from them and getting nearer with large steps was a huge, scruffy looking man. He was a  
colossus that towered over every car roof in the area, standing at least eight feet high...Well  
maybe more, but Harry wasn't so sure.

He was dressed rather strangely, especially for summer, in a hairy coat, some sort of jeans like pants that Harry swore looked like scales, and a pair of large work boots that would swallow up two of the biggest of  
Mrs. Figg's Maine Coon cats. The giant of a man carried a pink, of all colors for a man to have  
on his person, umbrella in one hand and a white paper-like box that looked as if it had seen better  
days in the other.

His head was covered in untamed hair which seemed to spread out over his face in the form of a  
beard and moustache, but even with that amount of it growing there he couldn't hide the fact that  
he was smiling and it was clearly seen in his sparkling beady eyes.

Vernon was the first of the two frozen individuals to recover from the shock and he quickly  
composed himself, stepping in front of Harry to shield him from the view of this strange person  
as he brought himself up to his full height.

‟I'm Vernon Dursley" he said, his right hand suddenly coming up to his chest level for the  
stranger to shake. Even though his tone and movements were polite, it was obvious to Harry that  
his Uncle was cautious, thus the protective stance he took in front of his Nephew.

The stranger didn't appear to like having his view of Harry cut off, but at the same time it seemed  
he understood that Vernon was just keeping Harry out of trouble. He swiftly took Vernon's hand  
and shook it with such force, Vernon almost fell forward when the shake was initiated and  
stumbled back when his hand was released.

‟Rubeus Hagrid, keeper o' keys an' grounds at Hogwarts"

Vernon suddenly lit up as if Christmas had come early. ‟Really? Well then they weren't lying  
when they said I couldn't miss you if I needed to find you in a crowd."

Vernon then told Hagrid all about the wizarding folk he was able to speak to, what he knew  
about the wizarding world and then asked how they hadn't been approached by anyone, Muggle  
or wizard, yet what with all the magic Harry has done in the last five minutes. Plus, Hagrid was  
hard to miss and they were in the middle of number four's lawn talking of magic, while their  
neighbors had their windows open.

‟Oh they don' hear much, Muggles, plus I've got a ward around me set by Dumbledore tha'  
allows me to speak to yeh without bein' overheard. And as fer how they see us, same ward, but  
they see me as a smaller bloke in a suit I reckon."

Both Vernon and Harry nodded in approval as Hagrid fiddled with his pocket watch.

He then turned his smiling beetle black eyes onto Harry, causing the boy to lock his glasses  
shielded, teal eyes with Hagrid's black ones out of habit. He normally locked eyes with people he  
wanted to check for lies or other signs of deceit, and this time it would leave him more confused  
than if he had ignored the urge to 'see' inside the giant.

Harry didn't back away at the strange feeling the contact between their eyes gave him, but he did  
flinch in brief pain. A memory popped up, not his own, of a young man who looked as if he  
could very well be a teenaged version of the man who was now before them. In the quick  
flashback of this memory, Harry was seeing him through the eyes of another teenager, who  
appeared to have been quite happy to see the back of the other man; if the feeling of elation was  
anything to go by. Young Hagrid looked tired or upset and was surrounded by cloaked people  
who wanted to know why he did it, what ever 'it' was. When the young Hagrid looked over at the  
'Harry' in the memory, there was pure hatred etched on his face.

Harry mentally shook off the flashback and noticed that he didn't appear to have missed anything  
that was happening around him, almost as if the flashback only took but a second to play out.  
Hagrid continued to smile down at Harry and then leaned forward to hand the boy the box he had  
been carrying.

‟There yeh go Harry, sorry about the condition o' it, might've sat on it at one time or another I  
think."

Harry slowly lowered his eyes to the box and reached out to take it. Carefully, he opened the lid  
and was surprised to see a birthday cake with the words 'Happee Berthdae Harry' written on it.  
At the moment, Harry didn't care if the words were misspelled or that he didn't know Hagrid at  
all; he had a birthday cake, a real one, not a cupcake or some small thing that Vernon had to  
smuggle in. Not that he didn't appreciate anything that Vernon got him, it was just that he had  
the whole, big cake to himself now instead of worrying about how to make his little bit of treat  
last as long as Dudley's.

‟Thank you" he breathed, looking up at both adults in awe. Vernon was happy from the looks of  
it, mostly because now he could spend what ever he had on other things for Harry, like gifts  
instead of just sweets, which should have been made by Harry's Aunt.

Hagrid shrugged indifferently, but Harry could tell he was proud of himself; he was blushing  
after all.

‟Don' mention it, now I know yeh lot were headed over to Diagon Alley, which is why I'm here. I  
need to let yeh in yeh see?"

He held up his umbrella so that the two could get a good look at it. In unison, Vernon and Harry  
understood that it must house a wand, seeing as that was what opened the wall to Diagon Alley  
from what they had heard.

Vernon made to open the door to the car as Hagrid stuffed his pocket watch back into his vest.  
But before either one could do much more, a hand was laid on the shoulders of both Harry and  
Vernon and with a loud crack, the three of them disappeared from view. To any of the Muggles  
in the area that might have been watching, their memories would have instantly modified into  
one where the three of them had just gotten into a cab and left.

They landed in the middle of a pub, one that Vernon recognized instantly as the Leaky Cauldron.  
Many of his contacts had brought him here at one point or another to get him used to the magic  
he would be around now that Harry would be training. Tom, the barkeep, looked up at the arrival  
of the three people, and smirked at how two of them were attempting to shake off the effects of  
Disapparating. One was Vernon, who was doubled over and trying to suck in large amounts of  
air. The other was surprisingly enough, Hagrid. He wasn't as obvious about it as Vernon was, but  
he still seemed rather uncomfortable.

Harry was just standing there off to the side of Hagrid and his Uncle; he didn't like feeling as if  
someone was stuffing him into a straw, but it wasn't as bad as his Uncle was making it  
seem...Was it? It felt different this time from when he had done it himself, though familiar still in that suffocating way. Harry reached out and helped Vernon stand up so that the three of them could  
head into Diagon Alley and start their adventure.

If the boy had been paying any attention to Hagrid he would have noticed how the large man was  
shocked at Harry's apparent familiarity with Apparition and the fact that the boy just seemed so  
detached at times, almost as if he had done this or seen that too many times to be impressed by it.  
But that just couldn't be, Harry wasn't around anyone magical and Vernon had already told  
Hagrid that the boy wasn't allowed to interact with any of Vernon's contacts for safety reasons.

But Hagrid just shrugged it off as shock and lead the two others over to the entrance to Diagon  
Alley. Maybe the Alley would get a response out of Harry. Sure enough, as soon as the wall  
parted to reveal the Alley beyond it, Harry and Vernon adopted equal looks of pure awe and joy,  
though Vernon acted more the child and squealed with delight as they entered.

Hagrid chuckled over at Harry, who caught the eye of the half-giant and smirked in return. But  
the smirk soon wiped off the boy's face as he noticed that Hagrid's eyes had taken on a glazed  
look, the look of someone that was strolling down memory lane. In the blink of an eye, Hagrid  
flashed back to a memory that Dumbledore had shown him of a young Tom Riddle, the memory  
of when Albus had come to notify the young man that he was a wizard. At one point, he had  
smirked just like Harry was doing and their faces were almost identical.

Snapping back into reality, Hagrid looked about for his two charges and spotted them heading off  
to Gringotts, with Vernon completely oblivious to the fact that Harry was worried, and Harry  
looking back over his shoulder with looks of suspicion at Hagrid.

With a huff, the now irritated Grounds keeper followed them off to the bank; why did Harry's  
smirk bring back the memory of 'that boy'? The more he thought about it, the more he noticed  
that Harry didn't look at all too much like James or Lily, in fact, the boy looked more like a copy  
of Tom Riddle at that age with glasses and teal eyes...And the scar..._'Wait, the scar'_.

When Hagrid leveled himself off with Harry, he glanced down at the boy's forehead in search of  
the scar, it wasn't at all visible; where was the scar in the shape of a lightning bolt? Now Hagrid  
was panicking. Harry Potter, the boy he was sent to fetch didn't look at all like he should, he  
didn't have the right personality and he didn't have the scar, and to make matters worse, Hagrid  
kept getting the feeling that Harry really knew more about the wizarding world than he should,  
like having memories of things. He had seen the look on the boy's face when he introduced  
himself, he had also not missed the look of pain that had crossed his features and now he found  
himself seeking out those teal eyes in search of answers.

When he found the boy's eyes however, he suddenly didn't  
remember anything that he had been thinking about previously, mainly, anything to do with  
Harry Potter. It was almost like something had just cleared away all the thoughts, wiped away  
any doubt...Wiped away who Hagrid thought Harry was. Like something was trying to sooth his fears...

In place of all the memories he had of his meeting with this boy and his guardian, new ones now took over. Everything being rewritten and replaced, edited to fit the timeline and locations.  
Hagrid now believed Harry to be some kid named Harrison Tomas Chantt, whom  
he had met at The Chantt House in Grypon's Point, which was where, at this very moment unknown to all else in the world, an oldish woman was now dying in a bed with a smile planted on her withering face.

Again, Hagrid slowly looked away from Harry and found Vernon running back toward them with his  
pockets full of Muggle money to change and a piece of paper clamped firmly in one of his hands.  
He waved it in front of Harry and did a dance.

‟You won't believe this, but I got ourselves a lawyer and he says I can divorce the old horse right now!  
All I have to do is get her to sign it when she comes back and we will both be free of her!"

Vernon had seemed ecstatic at first, but now he took on the look of a man who knew he wouldn't  
be allowed to see his son, and he voiced that much to Harry.

‟Well, it's not goodbye, I mean you can see him sometimes you know" Harry spoke so  
nonchalantly about it all, that Vernon caught the same attitude, almost as if Harry had forced him  
to feel better.

‟You're right you know, no need to get worked up about it...Lets go get you settled" Vernon pocketed the  
paper and looked over at Hagrid for a moment, who looked lost and slightly confused. ‟You  
alright there Hagrid?" he called.

Hagrid looked over at Vernon and then nodded swiftly. ‟O' course, I jus' was wonderin' where  
Harry Potter is. He is suppose to be here too yeh know, I suppose I should pick him up an' brin' him  
here...Head over to Gringotts an' get yer money, then do yer shoppin', it was nice to meet yeh  
both. I really need to go get Harry Potter right now.."

And with that last parting gesture of waving goodbye, Hagrid set off at a trot to escape the Alley,  
cursing himself for not noticing before that Harry Potter wasn't here; he shouldn't have been too busy introducing Mr Chantt and his Squib uncle to the Alley.

Vernon, who had the same memory replacing done to him the moment he really started to notice  
that his Harry wasn't a Potter shortly before getting to the Alley today, didn't pay any attention to  
the name 'Harry Potter', and thus didn't act odd when Hagrid ran off to fetch this child that was  
standing next to him, although he and Harry both had wide eyes; Harry Potter was known as The-  
Boy-Who-Lived and the thought that they would be seeing him now that he was beginning  
school made them nervous.

Harry never heard the surname of Potter in the house and Vernon  
never told him that he a Potter, even though Vernon had known, until now, that he was Harry  
Potter. Anyone Vernon had told in his meetings were also getting the same treatment at the moment.

The safe guards were still in effect and they wouldn't be down until Harry put two and  
two together himself. Anything and everything that had to do with Harry Potter that would point  
anyone to Harry Chantt, would be wiped away so that they couldn't solve the puzzle; it was a  
game for Harry to win and if he could win it, he would be rewarded.

The two headed into Gringotts and walked right up to the counter where a rather mean looking  
Goblin sat. Vernon was about to speak, when Harry tapped his hand on the side of the counter to  
gather the Goblin's attention; why he did it that way, he couldn't remember.

The Goblin leaned over the counter to look down at the boy, who was glaring back at the black  
eyed creature with intent to cause harm should he ignore him. ‟And who might you be?" the  
Goblin sneered, ignoring Harry's intensifying glare.

‟I am Harrison Tomas Chantt" Harry's tone was laced with ice, very much like how most  
Purebloods would address those they see as being below them.

At the sound of that name, the Goblin lost what color he had, which was strange to see, and  
leaned back into his seat and fiddled with a key he had under the table in a lockbox.  
‟Very well, we have been expecting you for quite sometime young man, your mother did say you  
would show up one day to claim the vaults and the Chantt house."

This bit of information startled both Vernon and Harry. Yes they knew about the vault, but the  
house? House, that seemed like the triggering point in Vernon's memory, like someone had set a  
key phrase there that would activate the memory so that he would give the proper answer.

‟Oh, we will be moving in there shortly." Vernon kept his surprise at his own choice of words,  
hidden from both Harry and the Goblin and when the Goblin asked him his name, he replied  
automatically just like before.

‟Vern, Vern Chantt...I'm his Uncle" Now why did he choose that name? He wasn't a Chantt, was  
he? And his name was Vernon...No, Vern did sound right all of the sudden. New memories quickly filled in the blanks, trying desperately to wipe Vernon Dursley from the face of the planet.  
The same was happening to poor Harry, who was starting to get a headache from all the memory shuffling and replacing.

‟That's nice, follow me please...I am Gorgnuck" he added his name as an after thought, hoping  
to stay on the good side of this Chantt, seeing as his whole family was quite vicious, just as bad  
as Slytherin's line.

Harry and Vernon followed the Goblin to a table nearby, where Harry put his blood into a goblet  
for the Goblin to verify. Two names popped up, forcing the Goblin to sputter a few times,  
earning him a look from many of his fellows who didn't understand what could have a Goblin in  
such a fuss. There, in bold letters on the parchment in front of Gorgnuck, were two names that  
would change how Harry perceived the world, followed by more that would show him that he  
was more than he initially thought.

_Name: _  
_Harrison Tomas Salazar Chantt_

_Vaults: Chantt, Parasul, Gaunt, Black._

_Father: _  
_Tom Marvolo ‟Voldemort" Riddle_

_Vaults: Gaunt_

_Mother:_  
_Selene Ursula Chantt_

_Vaults: Chantt, Parasul, Black._

_Uncle: Vern Earlus Chantt_

_Vaults: Chantt_

_Cousin: Sirius Black_

_Vaults: Black._

_Other ties: Malfoy_

_Properties: Chantt House, The Bog Mine._

_Abilities: Parselmouth, Wandless Magic, Shifting._

_Compatible family Wands: _

_Father: Yew, 13 ½ inches, Phoenix tail feather core._

_Cousin: Hawthorn, 10 inches, Unicorn hair core._

As he looked over the parchment, Harry felt more memories flit to the surface upon seeing the  
name of his father. But none of them were very important, just bits about school and people he  
seemed to know. To Harry, it was like he was Tom Riddle at times, seeing and remembering  
things that only his father would know, this unnerved him the whole time they picked through the  
Chantt vault.

Once done, they left quickly, with Harry wanting to get his supplies and Vernon wanting to see  
this house they now owned in the hopes of getting some answers. The first stop was the  
bookshop, which was Vernon's new favorite place. He bought as many books as he could stuff in  
a bag all to himself, while getting another for Harry's school things as well as one on Animagi,  
which is what Gorgnuck had said Harry's shifting ability was for. When Harry was old enough, possibly his fifties and IF he managed to perfect Transfiguration, he might be able to become an advanced  
shapeshifter, but for now he would have to settle with being just an Animagus, which was more  
than enough in Harry's mind. Vern firmly drilled it into Harry's head on their way out of the shop that the young man was not in any way to practice anything in that book without a Professor or a very skilled Animagus present.

Next was Ollivander's for a wand...

The shop was dark and dusty, silence reigned around them save for the soft thuds of someone  
milling around in the back of the shop. It took four tries from Vern to get the attention of the  
unknown person before a ladder slid into view and the shop's owner removed himself from it.

‟Come to buy a wand I see, how interesting..." His soft voice caught Harry's attention more than  
a shout from Petunia would have. Ollivander's silver eyes trailed up to the boy's forehead for a  
moment, then drifted down in slight disappointment.

‟Which is your wand hand young man?" he held up a tape measure for a moment waiting for  
Harry's answer. When the boy shrugged and indicated that he could use either hand for most  
things, Ollivander looked curious. ‟Indeed?" was all he said in reply. Suddenly, he stole away  
into the back of the shop and returned with a box. He gave the wand over to Harry and then told  
him to wave it.

Ten wands later Harry wound up with a 14" Ebony wand with Thestral hair core, which made  
Ollivander smile. ‟A good wand indeed, can do just about anything if the wizard trains at it"

But that was only the beginning of Harry's problems. It seems that he shared his father's  
curiosity. There was a Holly wand laying on the table in front of him, one that Ollivander had  
apparently pulled out for Harry Potter to try once he got there. Harry only knew this because he  
didn't miss the eyes to his forehead movement that Ollivander had preformed the moment he was  
near enough to him. Slowly, so that the movement would not be caught by Ollivander, who was  
being paid by Vern, Harry reached out and took hold of the wand, starting when it accepted him  
the same way his Ebony wand had.

‟Curious, very curious...Two wands...But that one" he pointed over at the Holly wand Harry  
now held in his left hand, the other being preoccupied in holding the box that held his Ebony one.

‟That one has a brother...The Phoenix who's tail feather resides in that wand, gave another, just  
one other...Yew, thirteen and a half inches, Phoenix feather core. Yes that wand I remember  
above all others...I remember every single wand I've ever sold young man...That wand is a  
legend, that belonged to a great wizard."

Harry didn't need to be told who the wizard was, that parchment had told him all the family  
wands that his blood would accept and the thirteen and a half inch Yew and Phoenix feather  
wand was right up top on that list. Great.

‟Perhaps not as great as you think, he was defeated after all by Potter" Harry shrugged and put  
his new Holly wand into its box. While doing this, he missed the look that Ollivander gave him,  
but got the message by ear.

‟True, but he was still great...Might I assume that you stand on the pretense that one is only  
great if they can't be defeated?" The wand maker frowned at Harry as he watched the boy  
answer; something was familiar...

‟Yes, you are correct in assuming as much...But don't assume to know me just from that little bit  
of information you just gathered." Harry Smirked.

Ah yes, that would be what was familiar about the boy, his personality...Young Tom.

Ollivander kept chanting the name over and over in his head as he watched the boy in front of  
him, never did he assume that Harry Potter and this boy were the same child, which would have  
triggered the same memory wiping that Vernon and Hagrid had been subject to. But this memory  
wiping wouldn't be triggered if anyone found out the boy was kin to Tom Riddle, after all, that  
was what the spell was for; so long as it wasn't known that Harry Potter and Harry Chantt were  
the same, then all would be fine. The only thing in OIllivander's mind right now tagged by magic for modification later, was the memory of the wand sales...If it should ever come to that.

It was to hide the chosen one in plain sight. Under another identity, thus protecting him from the  
Death Eaters and perhaps his own father until he could bring him down, if he chose that path. But  
what the person who set the spell on the child didn't figure in, was what happened if Albus  
Dumbledore was not the person they assumed him to be, but a masterful manipulator that would  
use Harry Potter as a tool, and make Harry Chantt the new evil for both Harry and himself to  
fight. If Voldemort never returned, then Harry Potter would be chasing down and killing this  
Chantt fellow. But if Voldemort did indeed return, then they would have two lords to bring down  
and Dumbledore would be the top name up there next to Potter. And what happened if Harry  
Potter never showed up? What would happen then?

Vern left the shop with Harry in tow, the two of them heading off toward Madam Malkin's.

This shop was full of parents and children who were here to gather their Hogwarts robes and  
Harry didn't like the crowd one bit, even less so when a young, silvery blond haired boy started  
up a storm with his comments.

‟Look at all these Mudbloods mother, scurrying around like insects..." he held his head up high  
as if to prevent his nose from picking up any offensive smells that these people might put off.

Madam Malkin rushed forward to get Harry up on a stand at the same time she scolded the blond  
haired child and his mother. ‟Really, there is no need for such language!"

Both the boy and his mother, who looked like someone else Harry had remembered seeing from  
one of his memories, snorted in reply to the scolding and watched in amusement as most of the  
patrons left and vowed to their kids that they would return later once the place had cleared out.

Now that the place was empty, save for Vern, Harry, Madam Malkin and the offensive witch and  
her son, the boy turned his attention to Harry.

‟So, guess you're not a Mudblood then, or you would have cleared out with the rest of them" He  
sneered over at Vern, who was now turning slightly purple; something had popped in his mind at  
the word 'Mudblood' and now he was finding it hard to keep from throttling the boy at accusing  
his Nephew of being one of them.

‟Really" Madam Malkin muttered again and finished touching Harry's robes up to fit him.  
The other boy ignored her again and continued to look at Vern and Harry, as if trying to judge  
which lot they were by their reactions. It wasn't necessary, however, because Harry lost his cool  
at the blond's next words.

‟Though you do look like a Mudblood, and him a Muggle..." He indicated Vern. Vern took two  
steps forward and opened his mouth in the perfect imitation of an angry dragon, but his Nephew  
beat him to the bite.

‟I am not one of them!" he hissed, his eyes burning red for two seconds before returning to  
their teal color. Suddenly it was as if a spell broke on Harry, a feeling like warm water melting off him and his mind felt clear. His face snapped into an impassive mask and his next few words were spoken in a cool manner.

‟He is a squib, not a Muggle and you will not insult either of us again...or_ elsssse_" without  
knowing it, Harry had slipped into Parseltongue at the last in anger, something he wasn't known to do very  
often. It felt like he was now fully this other person, not who ever he had been before. In all the  
contact with all these magical folk, perhaps what ever was on him had finally worn off?  
The headache got worse as more memories - mostly of his previous personality - were adjusted accordingly.  
It wouldn't do for the boy to notice he had at one point been saturated in spells of all kinds.

He reached up and plucked his glasses off his face, tucking them into his pocket, he didn't need  
them anymore, he could see just fine. This tiny thought was modified, so that he remembered wearing  
the glasses to prevent being recognized, as who he couldn't yet put his finger on, but the need to hide his identity was now no longer needed.

The blond was looking at him in a way that made Harry wonder if he had grown an extra head or  
something. The look was of pure horror and awe.

‟I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy...um...Which family did I insult?" He didn't seem as rude or  
condescending as before, now he seemed worried that he may have cost his family some honor and was attempting to do damage control.

Harry shrugged and returned to letting Madam Malkin fiddle with his last robe. ‟Chantt, Harrison  
Chantt" he cast Vern a look and locked eyes with him as Draco let out a gasp of realization and  
Vern quickly left the shop to do as he felt he had been requested.

Since they had entered the Alley, Vern and Harry had noticed that so long as they made eye  
contact, the two of them seemed to be able to plant information into one another's minds. They  
didn't know that what they were doing was a very powerful type of magic that would get one  
very dangerous, yet protective Professor on Harry's tail when he finally reached Hogwarts.

‟Well, I'm sorry..I didn't mean to insult you at all..." Draco got down from his stand and walked  
over to where Harry was standing, his mother kept darting glances out at the retreating form of  
Vern for a few seconds, before she too left the shop to follow; perhaps she was worried that he  
was up to no good?

Harry and Draco eyed each other then Draco extended his hand in friendship. Harry looked down  
at it and tilted his head, giving Draco the impression of a snake that was trying to decide between  
going to one branch or the next. After a moment though, Harry took Draco's hand and gave him  
a firm shake.

‟No problem, though in the future you should watch your prey a little longer to gauge how they  
react to their surroundings before you jump to conclusions."

The two boys left the shop together, a pair of budding friends, and chatted about everything that came to mind while going  
from shop to shop in search of all their supplies. Vern had given Harry the money before leaving  
Madam Malkin's and Draco already had his money on him. By the time the two were found by  
Draco's mother, they had bought everything they needed and were enjoying a moment of  
relaxation at an ice cream shop.

Draco had the ice cream and was kicking his dangling legs back  
and forth, while Harry seemed the more mature one of the two and only nursed a cup of tea and  
sat with his legs crossed elegantly. She noticed that on the ground next to them were two owls,  
one pure white and one grey and their supplies, while around Harry's neck, was a medium sized black serpent  
who was covered in light grey speckles. It's eyes were glowing red and although it resembled a  
cobra, it was obviously part Ashwinder, though how that was possible, she didn't want to know.

‟Got everything without me I see.." she drawled, not at all happy with Draco at the moment.  
Draco looked over at his mother with slight interest and then motioned over to Harry.

‟Harry wanted a snake and they didn't have anything that he wanted here, so we went to  
Knockturn Alley...Got him a snake that is the hybrid offspring of a Python/Spitting Cobra mix that  
was magically bred with an Ashwinder...Wicked is all I can say."

At this, Draco's mother flinched at her own realization, so it was true, the boy had been speaking  
Parseltongue in the shop. ‟Well that is fine, but we must be going" she sounded worried and  
perhaps a little angry.

A shout from across the Alley made Draco get to his feet quickly and snatch up all his items. A  
tall, thin and rather cross looking man made his way over to the pair of Malfoys. He had the same  
air as Draco and even resembled him greatly...The first thought was that this was Draco's father  
and Harry smirked at how right he was.

‟Father...This is Harry Cha-‟ he was cut off by a quick rap to his lower back with the snake  
headed walking stick that his father was carrying.

‟I don't care who he is, you were told to stay with your mother and not to wander off with odd  
types" he hissed, shooting a dark glare at Harry, which Harry returned. Surprisingly, Draco's  
father paled quickly and turned away to drag both his wife and son away and spoke in a low  
whisper that he was sure Harry couldn't hear...he was wrong.

‟You're right Narcissa, he does look like him...and if that is the case, then let us hope that  
Draco's quick thinking saved us from being on his bad side."

Draco snarled at his father, though Harry couldn't quite catch what he said, whatever was said  
resulted in him getting the walking stick again.

Five minutes after the Malfoys left, Vern showed up with a Kneazle-Maine Coon cross that was  
pitch black with dark grey and dark brown stripes. 'Soot' as the cat was now dubbed by Vern,  
was the Chantt family pet; evidently Vern had gone to the Chantt house and brought the cat back  
to Diagon Alley.

Vern filled Harry in on all he learned at the house, which he had been escorted to by their lawyer,  
Mr. Crass. Crass was described as being a well dressed, well learned young man with a tad too  
cheery personality and the way he spoke and the colors he chose in an outfit had clearly labeled  
him a 'poof' in Vern's mind.

But that was beside the point.

The house was huge and not so vacant. Harry's Grandmother had been there when Vern showed  
up with Crass and she drilled into Vern's head everything she thought important to tell him with  
her last dying breaths. The cat, Baltham, now named Soot, was charmed to live until the last  
member of the Chantt family died. He was an heirloom of sorts, very intelligent and can be  
renamed by only the male head of the family or the current matriarch if no males were in the line.

Vern was now the head of the family, until Harry was of age and apparently, Vern was the squib  
brother of Selene, Harry's mother, and had been given to Muggles once it was known that he was  
a squib.

Now Harry not only had a good family and a wicked history, but he had a house that he and Vern  
could live in without the 'demons' being there to wreak it.

The Uncle and Nephew walked out of Diagon Alley and returned to the drab house that was  
number four Privet Drive, and the only thought that was going through Vern's mind as he tucked  
Harry in to the bed that they would be sharing until morning when they would get him one of his  
own was that the boy was a blessing, not a curse.

Unknown to them, when the two fell asleep and August first rolled around, a charm activated on Soot  
whisking the two sleeping individuals who were holding him to separate bedrooms in the Chantt  
house. Anything and everything that Vern dearly loved from Privet Drive suddenly appeared there  
in the master bedroom that was now his. Same happened to Harry's things, which were moved  
down the hall into the room that he now owned. Neither of them woke up at the sudden change in  
their environments, but small smiles graced their sleeping features; they were home and they  
knew it. Memories of previous living conditions modified to remove a certain woman and boy's name from them as well as changing their appearances; nothing that connected the two remaining Dursleys to the Chantt family was left intact...

Meanwhile, back at Privet Drive, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Rubeus Hagrid all stood there  
dumbstruck at the near empty house, it was as if Harry Potter had been living there with only his  
Aunt and cousin, though there was no sign of Harry Potter living there save for the cupboard with  
the words 'Harry's Bedroom' etched into the door and the few pictures of Harry and the family  
that Vernon had put there earlier that day to piss Petunia off when she returned. The pictures were  
of when Harry was two, four, and seven years old, still looking like James and Lily's son for the photos.

Vernon Dursley just disappeared into thin air, divorced from his wife for some reason and left her  
to deal with Harry and Dudley alone. This is what they thought had happened, that Petunia was on  
vacation with Harry and Dudley, totally ignoring the writing on the cupboard that stated  
otherwise, that Harry was the House Elf there and that Petunia and Dudley were his owners.

And in a hotel, hundreds of miles away from Privet Drive and Gryphon's Point, a parchment  
landed on the table requiring Petunia's signature for divorce. It stated that she was married to a  
squib. Her reaction was priceless and a memory (again the contents were edited name and appearance wise regarding the wife and not-son) was being recorded from the paper so that both Harry and Vern would be  
allowed to see it later. Feeling betrayed, that her Vernon was really a magical person placed in her  
home to spy on her and keep Harry Potter safe, she signed the paper, only to regret it a moment  
after the paper disappeared; what was so bad about being married to a magical person anyways, it  
didn't feel any different.

But she wouldn't remember that bit of information, she would remember that Muggle Vernon had  
enough of her hating on Harry and that after the boy 'ran away' and left Vernon to clear up the  
mess, he had decided to move on.

And the fact that Dudley wasn't his son...

This little tid bit had her worried how her Vernon had found out about her 'Weekend Lover'. She was always careful whenever she went out on her 'gathering' trips so as not to tip off her Husband or the gossiping group she was a part of...it bothered her all night as she lay there trying to sleep.

And back at the Chantt house, a hybrid serpent lay next to her master, listening to Soot explain  
everything that the divorce paper would do thanks to the lawyer.

_‟Clever Mr. Crassss, very clever indeed, musst have been a Ssslytherin at Hogwartss."_ she mused  
aloud, while laying her head down to sleep on her Parselmouth master's chest.


	3. The lies we live

Chapter 3. The lies we live.

Chaos, pure, unchecked chaos. That was the condition of the Headmaster's office at the moment.

Albus Dumbledore was pacing back and forth, his hands were wringing in front of him as he kept

sending a parchment on his desk several nervous glances as he passed it. Standing behind him

with a look of amusement on his pale face, was a rather surly man. His hands were clasped firmly

behind his back and were twirling his wand around in time with Albus' obsessive pacing. It was

obvious that the sour man either didn't know what was bothering the Headmaster and was

thinking it had to do with Potter, or he did know what was vexing the man and that was what amused him.

Either way, Severus Snape was a happy man at the moment and nothing would change that. Off

to Snape's left stood Minerva McGonagall, she too looked like the world was ending, just as

Albus did. And just like Albus, she kept glancing over at the parchment on his desk as if it were a

dangerous creature that might spring up and attack them any second. Hagrid was there, but he

appeared to be lost in thought, which seemed to bother Severus, for he was slowly losing his

cheery expression.

Finally, after thirty minutes of unrelenting pacing, Albus stopped in front of the parchment and

pulled it back to his face. The parchment was a list of names, names of the students who had

replied to their Hogwarts invitations and two names stuck out like sore thumbs; one because he

had yet to accept and one because it was an old surname that Albus hadn't seen in the school in

fifty years.

_Harry James Potter_

Harrison Tomas Salazar Chantt.

Harry Potter had yet to reply, saying that he would indeed be attending Hogwarts and this was

what bothered Dumbledore, though he would never admit that it was the other name that really

bugged him.

Selene Chantt had been going to school at the same time as Tom Riddle. Even though the two

never really showed any interest in each other, Tom mostly seeing as he couldn't love, they were

still somewhat of a topic of gossip. Tom was in Slytherin and Selene was in Ravenclaw. Both

were good at DADA and Selene showed more promise in Transfiguration and Potions than Tom

did.

They weren't friends, just classmates and didn't interact with each other outside of class or

school. At least that was the impression that Albus got as a teacher. Now however, a child

bearing Selene's surname and Tom's name as well even though it was an older spelling, was going to start attending school this year.

Albus didn't think the boy was related to Tom at all, he assumed that Selene was taken with Tom

in some way or they were friends finally after graduation and she had named her child or grand

child after him and his family. The thought that Tom may have sired a child eleven years ago

never crossed the old fool's mind. It didn't even click that he might be overreacting about it, that the name could be just that, a name, and that Salazar was a part of that name could be a coincidence. No, he jumped to the conclusion that the boy was named for two of Tom's family; the man's ancestor and Tom himself.

Again Dumbledore set the parchment down and turned to face three of his staff members.

Severus was back to his old, sneering self, Minerva was looking strict once more and Hagrid was

giving Albus his signature 'I don't know what's happening' expression.

‟Well, it appears we will have our hands full this year. Hopefully, Harry Potter will reply soon,

I'd hate to send someone after him just to make sure he attends." Albus sighed dramatically after

saying this and noted Severus' snort of disdain from the corner of the room.

‟If I might, Headmaster, perhaps Potter does not wish to attend Hogwarts..." Severus started,

pausing only for a moment to gauge how Minerva, Albus and Hagrid were going to respond.

‟Perhaps the boy believes he is much too good to attend this school. Might do better in another

instead?" he added hopefully, his eyebrows raised high.

Albus sighed again, slowly lowering himself into his chair and sent Severus another one of his

'we've been over this before' looks. ‟He has to attend Severus, and I'm sure it is Petunia that is

the cause for his delay in replying. I'll give him till August fourth to reply, then I'm sending

Hagrid back to Privet Drive to collect his answer in person."

It was now Severus' turn to sigh and he flung his hands into the air in defeat. ‟Very well. I was

only trying to help you Headmaster, to save the school from Potter's idiocy and poorly thought

out pranks that were his blasted father's specialty."

Minerva, who had been rather quiet throughout the whole argument, decided to speak now after

that little bit of ribbing toward Harry's father.

‟Now Severus, you don't even know the boy, it is possible that he is more like Lily...I don't think

Petunia would allow him to act like James at all."

Snape seemed to think on this for a moment, before nodding in agreement, though it was only

that Petunia would not allow such actions, not that the boy was like Lily. The conversation then

turned to other things, mostly how best to deal with the upcoming year and who else would be

dealing with the Muggleborn's orientation, which fell to Minerva again this year. Soon they all

parted ways, leaving a very frustrated Albus Dumbledore to his thoughts on this Chantt fellow.

Four house elves were standing out side the two joining rooms in the Chantt house. One was an

old male and looked quite mean, another was young and hyper male, who chose to bounce up and

down in his excitement. The other two were twins, one male and the other female, who were a

little older than the young hyper elf. The old one started to mumble, shooting death glares over at

the hyper one.

‟Stupid, unworthy masters. Filthy, disrespectful, tainted masters." he growled, still glaring at the

hyper one.

‟They be Chantts! Dobby is being honored to serve them too!" the hyper one squealed, his large

green eyes were watering with tears of joy as he took in the sleeping form that was Harry Chantt.

He obviously didn't hear what the old one had said or else he wouldn't have mistaken it as some

form of honor that he would be serving them.

The twin elves wore masks of indifference, as if they were bored with the proceedings. The male

had a clean, white pillow case on with the Chantt house crest emblazoned on it. Two black

dragons, facing one another, fighting over a sword. The pillow case looked like a tunic with the

way it had been cut His eyes were large and blue, and he appeared to be healthy, save for the

large piece of his right ear that was missing.

His twin looked like him, except she had both her ears intact. She too was wearing the same type

of clean, white pillow case with the Crest on it.

Dobby looked poor, with a dirty case on himself, same as the old elf, who was still growling

under his breath.

‟Enough, you be waking young master, Kreacher. And it be Corvid and Wort who being punished

if that happen." the male twin snarled, suddenly losing his indifferent demeanor. Kreacher, the

old elf, shut up instantly and disappeared with a crack. Dobby sighed and soon he too

disappeared from view with a crack, leaving the twins to stare at their stirring young master.

But he didn't wake, much to their great relief, he just rolled over and pulled Soot up to his chest,

eliciting a loud purr from the cat. The two elves then started to ponder on how to start the day. With

their old Mistress, they had a routine, she would wake up and food would be served to her right

at that moment in bed. Then she would be escorted down to the dinning area to read the paper

while the elves cleaned the house. Tea would be served at noon and any guests she had over

would then get the tour of the house if they haven't been there before.

But these two were new, and a pattern had not yet been created. Both elves were worried that

they would anger their new masters if they used the old Mistress' routine, but at the same time,

they were afraid of not doing anything. So they just stood there, fighting an internal battle of

sorts. Then an idea hit Corvid like a train. The Mistress had wanted only certain rooms cleaned,

while others were left to gather dust. This had been the downfall of Master Chantt, the Mistress'

husband, who had been killed by the dust, but not just any old dust, cursed dust. You see, with all

the dark magic that was used in some of the rooms in the house, it seemed that the magic had

chosen to become 'alive' and created itself a body out of dust.

The very room where their Master Chantt had died, now held a sleeping Harry Chantt, who was

oblivious to the murderous dust monsters that were sneaking up on him from under the bed. The

dust 'bunnies' were as large as Soot was, with glowing red eyes and nasty claws and teeth;

though they looked more like evil, dust versions of Kangaroos that crawled on all fours instead of

rabbits.

Although the Mistress had been quite happy to keep the beasts, Corvid wasn't too sure about the

young master's preference; if he were Harry, he wouldn't like dust that was interactive on that

level.

But Corvid didn't decide fast enough and one of the Dust Roos jumped up on the bed and started

to attack the covers that were thrown off of Harry and lay near his feet. This brought the young

boy into a sitting position so fast, that Corvid thought the boy had been laying on springs. A loud

hiss erupted from Harry's lips as his eyes widened in terror, focusing on the monster that was

shredding his bed. Another hiss sounded, this time in reply to Harry's as a snake slithered onto

the bed and latched onto the Dust Roo.

Two minutes of thrashing, squealing and hissing came to a sudden stop as the Dust Roo dropped

off the bed, dead. Harry sighed and flopped back down onto his pillow, his breathing starting to

become calm and normal.

‟_Thank you Darkssscale" _he whispered.

‟_You're welcome young ssspeaker" _she smirked, as best as a snake could.

The snake slithered off the bed, dropping onto the dead body of the Dust Roo. She glided right by

the two House Elves, who were both now in shock at the revelation; their master was a

Parselmouth. At this point, Harry had decided to roll over and face his doorway, this resulted in

him catching his first look at a House Elf, which wasn't a pleasant experience to say the least.

‟AHHHHHH!" Harry fell off the bed with a loud thump, sending the rest of the Dust Roos in

different directions, scurrying for cover lest the Speaker send the snake after them next.

‟What are you?" He yelped, backing up against the wall of his room in an effort to put as much

distance as he could between him and the monsters at his door. First enchanted Dust attacks him,

now floppy eared Gremlins were after him...oh wait..Floppy ears, big eyes, pillow cases...House

Elves.

Harry quickly stood up and wiped himself off, trying hard to hide his embarrassment as Corvid

introduced himself and his sister Wort. Evidently, Vern had heard the commotion from his room,

which was not surprising as it was right next door to Harry's. He came pelting into the hall with a

crazed expression on his face and promptly told the Elves off for sneaking around and startling

Harry.

Little did either of them know that Vern's reaction had just earned the respect of not only Corvid

and Wort, but of a spying Kreacher too; soft masters were not acceptable.

The next three days were passed by Harry and Vern in various forms of exploration. Fourteen

rooms in the house, two in the cellar which looked suspiciously like the cells in the dungeons

below, three libraries though only two had books in them, the other looked like it was turned into

a trophy room. The kitchen was below ground level and was tended only by the elves. One large

dining area and a bathroom attached to each of the bedrooms in the house.

In short, the place was huge. The grounds in front were covered in scattered flower beds,

fountains and gargoyles. Gargoyles littered the house itself as well, apparently coming alive when

the sun set because they were not in the same spots each morning when Harry went out. The back

of the house had a small family plot, graves were marked by small stones with names, dates and

causes of death on them. One of them had Harry in stitches for five minutes after reading it.

_Jarrison Harbo Chantt: 1823 - 1925. Defeated by provocative silk undergarments. _

When Vern saw it, he too was laughing so hard his sides hurt. The rest of the back grounds was

made up into a stable areas with no horses and a rink that was used to train said invisible horses.

Harry and Vern continued to read every book in the house, gathering information from the elves

whenever they could on the family, even going as far as quizzing them about the family tree on

the wall in the room across from Harry's. It was there that Harry realized he was related to Salazar Slytherin through his father and to a man named Herpo 'the Foul' Zabat on his mum's side, which made both Harry and Vern laugh seeing as that meant Harry was related to two Ancient Parselmouths...and that the Chantts were Greek at one point, bringing up the idea of perhaps going to Greece some day and seeing if any of the old family or family holdings were still there.

One night, while Vern slept loudly in the next room, Harry was reading a strange book on souls,

running across a term that he filed back into the deep recesses of his mind for later exploration. In

this same book, it pointed to another by the same author called ‟Keeping up Appearances".

It went into deep detail about creating a false body that could be tied to the true owner's soul,

which, if the copy was put under appearance and personality altering charms, would allow the real

body and soul to live as one person, while keeping up the false identity with the other body. The

copy would not know anything about the true soul or person they were copied from, yet the

'master' would be able to know anything the copy knew and in some cases 'possess' the other

body if the master were to know about the copy in the first place. Most people who preformed this complex bit of magic did indeed know of their copies, having made them with the intention of living their life one way while hiding from the world under a new name and body. Though there was still the rare cases of someone else making the copy to get the person they were copying in trouble or to hide the real person from danger, like a wizarding equivalent to 'Witness protection'.

As the young man read the book in front of him, mind trying to process what was being taken in, some latent magic on the house activated, leaving Harry's mind blank as his body started to act on its own. The book slipped from his fingers and the young boy snatched up his wand.

An hour later, a perfect copy of Harry Potter stood in front of him and Harry, still unaware that he was doing anything, started to apply advanced charms to alter the personalty of this new being.

His personalty would be what Harry's would have been if he was indeed the child of James and Lily potter, as were his looks, evidently something in the house was quite familiar with the personalities of James and Lily to force all this information into young Harry Chantt, enabling him to complete this task.

The copy also had the scar and because he was linked to the real Harry, he

would get visions, pain and the likes, just like the real Harry, only problem was that he lacked a

soul of his own, he was feeding off of Harry Chantt's soul, not that anyone would notice. His

mind was linked as well, effectively creating a 'second' brain for the clone in a now closed off part of the young man's mind.

This was Dark Magic, extremely Dark Magic. In essence, Harry Potter was now a real, living

being, but was also just a puppet of Harry Chantt, even though he didn't know he had a master.

He could think for himself, act for himself and not need Harry Chantt to tell him what to do...but

in the end, he was just a toy, a really complex toy.

Puppet Harry, now that he was finished, was sent away to Privet Drive, where he would remain,

acting out the part of Harry Potter until he died or was dismissed by Harry Chantt via the same

spell that created him. Harry Chantt was then released from the spell he had been under, forcing

him into a much needed rest and the tired boy fell back onto the bed, snoring even before his head

hit the pillow.

September came quickly for both the staff of Hogwarts and Harry Chantt. Hagrid had visited

Privet Drive to find a meek Harry Potter. He took him on his shopping trip, which resulted in a

strange group of events. Petunia didn't seem startled when Harry just popped up on the front step

on the fourth of August, she just ushered him in and started him on his chores as if nothing had

happened.

Then Hagrid showed up and presented the boy with a cake and his Hogwarts letter. Shopping was

easy, until they got to Ollivander's. Harry Chantt's Holly wand suddenly disappeared from his

side and appeared there in the shop for clone Harry to get. Ollivander didn't seem to notice this,

his mind being altered now that it was needed.

Harry Chantt and Vern would not remember having had the wand, though Harry would feel

as if he was missing something for a quite awhile, not to mention trying to figure out where the extra money went that day.

Then came the pet shop. Hagrid found a snowy owl, but not Harry Chantt's white-ish owl. Harry

Potter's owl was named Hedwig and was female. Harry Chantt's owl was a male pure white barn owl and his

name was Whistler. While Harry Potter was getting escorted to the platform by Hagrid, out in the

country another small boy was being roused from a deep, magically induced sleep.

Vern had summoned the young boy out onto the lawn when the day had finally arrived so that the

two could head out in the new car Vern had acquired two weeks prior. The trip to London was

short, silent and uneasy as Harry tried hard not to think about being without his uncle for so long.

Kings Cross was crowded as per usual, yet neither Vern or Harry seemed to notice that as they

whizzed through the groups of people, dodging shouting Muggles and ignoring questioning witches

and wizards on their way to the barrier. Once they arrived, Vern instinctively shoved Harry right

though it, much to Harry's dismay. He was sure his uncle had lost it.

But instead of crashing into the wall, he came out almost nose first into the back end of a tall, loud

red headed boy and his twin. Quickly, so that Vern wouldn't smash into him, Harry went around

the gaggle of red heads, effectively avoiding the smallest boy of the group, who appeared to be

either slow or just plain stupid. Harry was sure, just by looking at how the boy acted and listening

to what he said, that the boy had cobwebs in place of a brain.

Vern appeared from the other platform, grumbling about the pair of blondes who were the same

ones they ran into in Diagon Ally on that first day of shopping. Sure enough, as Vern lugged

Harry's luggage onto the train, Draco Malfoy and his mother slipped through the barrier and

started harassing anyone within earshot of them both. Shrugging, Harry faced his smiling uncle

and his outstretched arms.

‟Be good, study hard and write me!" Vern said, smothering Harry in a bear hug that would have

made Hagrid blush. ‟Mmmkay" Harry mumbled into Vern's mid-section before detaching himself

from his uncle and climbing aboard the train. They shared a few more words of encouragement,

mostly for Vern seeing as he was having trouble letting Harry out of his sight for this long, and

all too soon the train was leaving the station. Harry stuck his arm out of the window just long

enough to wave one last time to Vern before he had to pull it in so that he could keep it.


	4. The Grims

Chapter 4. The Grims

It didn't take long for someone to spot Harry. Humorously enough, it was Harry Potter who

entered. Harry Chantt just continued to stare out the window, his features looking exactly like his

father Tom at this age. Darkscale was sleeping on his lap, curled into a tight ball, while Whistler

slept on the seat in his cage. Soot remained at home with Vern as he should, guarding the house and property.

Harry Potter didn't say hello, nor did he even give Chantt a good look, he just took his seat on the opposite side of the car and looked out the window himself, trying hard to ignore the not so sleeping serpent that

now sat on the other boy's lap.

The door to their car slammed open suddenly, startling both Potter and Chantt, though only

Chantt rose from his seat with his wand at the ready. It was that annoying, slow red headed boy

from the platform. Chantt snarled at him, though his words were unintelligible, before retaking

his seat and pointedly ignoring the other two boys for the rest of the ride. The only time he spoke

was to snap out the name Chantt when a bushy haired girl had come in and asked for names.

When he found out that the raven haired kid was Harry Potter, he suddenly felt as if the boy was

to be his enemy and nothing else. He was decidedly Gryffindor and even the fact that he was a

Parselmouth, something Chantt noticed only because he seemed to shoot Darkscale some rather

nasty looks every time she mocked him, didn't impress Chantt in the slightest.

Finally, they arrived at the castle and after a long, annoying and quite eventful boat trip, both

Chantt and Potter broke off from the rest of the group to stand near those they had started to peg

as friends. Potter stood off with Granger and Weasley, while Chantt stood next to Draco and a

few of his thugs. Draco had not come to sit with him on the train, but had jumped into the same

boat to make sure he and Harry were still on friendly terms. This little action, with Harry now

standing near him, proved they were, though it didn't stop Harry Chantt from growling when

Draco tried and failed to befriend Potter.

From that point on, Harry Chantt wanted to be either called Salazar, Sal or Tom, not

Harry or Har, which Harry Potter had been called a few times. Draco agreed that Sal or Tom was

good for him, even if they were only the boy's middle names and so began a very strong,

unshakable friendship between Harry Chantt and Draco Malfoy.

‟Now, may I have your attention please! First years, please come up here in front and form a

line...Right here..." Minerva Mcgonagall pointed to a spot right in front of a stool, where a hat

stood motionless for a moment. Just as the First Years reached it, however, it started singing.

Chantt frowned at the lyrics, irritated that once again Slytherin was painted in a bad light. The

song ended and the sorting started, though Sal wasn't paying any attention at all, he was too

wrapped up in listening to Darkscale mutter from her spot up his sleeve.

_‟Horrible humansss...Which houssss do you want to be ssssorted into Sssspeaker?_

_Sssslytherin?"_ she teased, poking at his arm with her head and tickling his wrist with her tongue.

Sal rolled his eyes and smirked. _‟Of coursssse, I am a dessscendant of Ssslytherin, I belong_

_there"_

_‟True, you may be, but that doesssn't mean you will get there Ssspeaker, it isss your heart_

_and mind that will get you sssorted."_ Darkscale sounded a little irritated, as if she had

expected better of her human. But didn't press the matter as his name was called out.

‟Harrison Chantt!" Mcgonagall called, looking into the sea of first years to find the one she

wanted. Sal stepped forward slowly, eyeing the whole room, staff, students and ghosts as he made

his way onto the stool. But soon his view was cut off and a voice sounded in his head.

_'Ahhh, another heir to Slytherin! This will be interesting...' _the voice said in almost a purr.

_'What will?' _Sal thought, keeping his eyes closed as the voice replied again.

_'Your sorting...you have all the traits for Slytherin, yet you also possess Ravenclaw's most_

_precious of traits...there is also loyalty, but only to those you deem worthy of it...and courage, oh_

_yes, there is that...And talents, a lot of talents.'_

Sal squirmed on the seat, his rear was getting numb and the hat was still ranting.

_'And a severe thirst to prove yourself...But where to put you?'_

_'Slytherin' _the way he said it made it seem as if there was no other house choice that would work.

_'Oh? You sure? But you would do well in Ravenclaw...Not Gryffindor I'm afraid, they wouldn't_

_take a sly one like you, plus you don't rush into things head on, you like to sit back and watch first._

_Hufflepuff would be frightened of you...not cheery enough for them.'_

_'Slytherin' _Sal repeated, almost bored now with the hat's indecision.

_'Alright, if you're sure...Yes, you will be great in...SLYTHERIN!' _the hat shouted, making the

hall erupt in cheers so loud, that many of the staff were pressing their hands to their ears.

The Slytherins were happy they got Chantt, the rest of the houses were happy they didn't; it was a well known fact that the Chantts were evil and supported You-Know-Who in the war.

Grinning, Sal jumped off the stool and shot a glance over at the staff table just to see who was

going to be on his side and who would be difficult to turn. There was a rather dark looking wizard

at the end of the table, he was clapping the loudest of the staff and had a sly smirk on his face. That

one would be a friend for sure. Next to him was an odd looking one with a turban, he didn't look to

upset either, almost giddy actually...easy that one. Then Sal skipped a few and looked at the

Headmaster, who seemed to be having trouble breathing, he wasn't clapping at all and was leaning

on the table to get a good look at Sal. Then a plump witch with a cheery smile, and a small man

who was staring at Sal as if seeing a ghost, though not quite in a bad way, just startled is all.

Then there was Hagrid, he wasn't too happy at all...He kept shooting looks at Sal that put off a

sense of danger. And at the back, leaning on a the wall, was an old man who was hunched over. He

gave Sal a once over and then sent him a crooked smile that didn't bode well. Near his legs was a rather sick looking tan female cat who was winding her body in and out from between the man's legs and Sal had to suppress a smile at the memory of Soot doing the same thing to him that very morning.

Sal was seated now, still scanning the faces and matching names to them as they were sorted.

He had memorized all of the staff and their habits by asking questions around his table. Everyone in

Slytherin was more than happy to speak with him, showering him with praise and giving him pats

on his back and shoulders as they answered. Draco had told them all who Sal's father was and

most recognized the old surname of Chantt, though Draco's words were main reason why they

acted this way. Mcgonagall had been slightly snippy earlier, though now that she was seated at the

staff table and looked at his position for a few seconds, she smiled a little more, which pulled a few

well versed smiles from Sal, just to keep up the good nature of the strict witch.

After all, he would need her class to become an Animagus in the future...well, a better one. He

could already take the shape of a rather scrawny and small Rainbow Boa, though he found it hard to stay Sal when he was in this form. If Darkscale wasn't with him and didn't remind him to change back, he would forget to do so at all. He had managed the form one day at home when a dust roo attempted to assasinate him while he was cleaning out the filth from his room.

Shimmerscale was his name in that form and Shimmer didn't like being told what to

do, almost as if Sal was taking on a whole new identity in this form. And Sal would become quite knackered after changing back, passing out almost instantly after doing so. Needless to say, he didn't change that

often, only when angry to the point of needing to escape his mind or if he was scared and needed to

run away faster.

And so Slytherin gained a few more faces, Gryffindor got Potter and another Weasley, as well as

the Granger girl. Though Slytherin got Longbottom and he didn't seem too upset about it after Sal

spoke to him about the house and what got you landed there. It was there at the feast where the

Golden Trio of Gryffindor and the Grims of Slytherin were formed. With Harry Potter as the head

of the Trio and Sal, or Tom, as most of his house now referred to him as, because they didn't want to compare him yet to their noble house founder, was head of the Grims.

The Grims were a group of Slytherins that had made it clear where their loyalties would be placed

and that 'Tom' or 'Sal' was their leader and 'Lord'. Their rallying point as it were. When Draco

asked what name he would chose, like the Dark Lord had a different name for all to fear, Sal joked

that he would be called 'Wraith', because he had always liked the Nazgûl from the Lord of The

Rings novels, they reminded him of Dementors. He had to give the Slytherins a quick run down on

what a Nazgûl was and what they looked like. Even though it was from a Muggle fantasy novel,

the Slytherins found the idea of a horse riding, armored Dementor quite appealing and that name

stuck at dinner as the name they would use when they spoke of their Lord, so as not to confuse him

with the first Dark Lord. Not that they thought him one yet, being just children with ideals from their parents in their heads, Sal was an heir of Slytherin whom they were going to follow when he came to power.

Vincent Crabbe, Marcus Flint, Gregory Goyle, Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy, Graham

Montague, Theodore Nott, Neville Longbottom and Blaise Zabini were all the current inner circle of the

Grims. With Draco being the right hand and Theodore being the left hand of Wraith. Other

members of Slytherin were Grims too, but they were much lower down the ladder. Marcus had suggested the whole 'circle' idea from what he had heard about Sal's father and his followers. Marcus had also suggested the members, though unknown to Marcus was that Sal held him responsible if any of the suggested people turned on Sal.

It was made clear by Sal that although they may learn Dark Magic, they were not like the Death Eaters. The

Grims were created to purge the world of those who abuse magic, like the Death Eaters, and later

establish a proper, uncorrupt government. And they, unlike the Order or the Ministry, would not

shy from using Dark Spells to get the job done; in Wraith's mind, you have to fight Dark Magic

with Dark Magic.

Some Death Eater children were a little skeptical about the whole deal and even thought the new

heir soft, but one glance from him after they voiced their opinion proved them wrong. While the

Slytherin table was being recruited by an eleven year old, aspiring Dark Lord, the staff table and

the rest of the school was oblivious to the danger and went about their business as usual, except for

two members of the staff; Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Severus noticed that his Slytherins were worshiping Chantt as if he were the Dark Lord reincarnated and this didn't help to settle his stomach. During dinner, he noticed that they all waited to eat until Chantt's plate was

filled first, then Theodore reached over and took a piece of everything off of Chantt's plate and tasted

them before letting him eat it. Chantt was amused at the gesture, though it was obvious to Severus,

that even though the boy grasped what was going on, it did irritate him.

The fact that his Slytherins, as a whole, were treating Chantt with such respect, forced Severus to

come to a decision; he needed to keep an eye on Chantt and make sure the young man didn't do

what he did and follow Lord Voldemort. He had no idea that Mini-Voldemort was brewing right

under his nose at that very moment.

Albus watched the Slytherin table with a sense of Déjà Vu. Although Tom didn't have this kind of

respect from the house till his was much older, nearing his fifth year, he did have a way with

people and it appeared to be a trait that his namesake shared. Even Tom Riddle didn't have the

whole house on his side at any one time; this was pure house unity. Albus had to admit, the

moment he saw the boy when his name was called, he had a flashback. This young boy looked

exactly like Tom Riddle at age eleven, but his eyes were teal, not brown, and this boy

looked as if he had gotten the good genes on both sides of his family. The more Albus studied him

at the table, the more it became clear that Tom had indeed procreated. But instead of thinking

about redeeming himself and saving the boy who was a copy of Tom, he turned his attention to

Harry Potter.

'_I'm going to have to make sure that Harry is ready to fight them both...Looks like Tom had one_

_more trick of his sleeve before he vanished'_

Quirinus Quirrell on the other hand was having an internal battle with his master, who was cursing

himself for his foolishness eleven years ago. Now he had an heir, one who might overthrow him or

would, without a doubt, be a nuisance to him otherwise.

'_What was I thinking? Selene wasn't special...It was lust, yes, just lust...I had an itch and she_

_scratched it...And now I have a disease in the form of a miniature me...Great.'_

Quirrell smirked mentally and then offered some advice, advice which would be the end of his 'life'

come term's end.

'_Perhaps the boy can be swayed? If Potter won't join us, then this powerful boy might...And he_

_could be used to kill Potter too'_

Quirrell, flinched suddenly as Voldemort all but yelled at him for his stupidity...Then he calmed

down and decided to just watch the boy, see how he reacted throughout the year, see who his

friends were and what kind of wizard he was.

The feast ended with a bang. The Weasley twins were filing out with the rest of their house, silent

as the grave, which was unusual for them, and just when the teachers sighed a breath of relief, that

perhaps they had grown up...A firecracker went off. Gryffindor lost twenty-five points, much to

the great delight of Severus Snape, and two Slytherins were sent to the wing for burns to their

hands when they tried to stop the firecracker from attacking their firsties. Harry Potter grinned

happily with Ron Weasley doing the same on his right, as they watched the chaos reign from the

entryway.

Sal was less than impressed and his face mirrored Severus' as he left the hall with the rest of his

house. The rest of the evening passed without incident, though Sal swore that Snape was out to

prove that he was up to no good. Even though Snape was polite with him when he spoke to the

new Slytherin, his underlining of the rules with his finger and deliberate repeating of certain rules

made Sal feel as if the Professor knew he was dark and was pleading with him not to start on a

killing spree.

**AN:**

Got a name change now so that people won't be confused between Harry Chantt and Harry Potter when I write...and so I don't have to write their full names all the time XD I will always refer to Harry Chantt as 'Sal' even if others call him Tom or by another name, unless I have him disguised, in which case the name of the person he is pretending to be will be written as such_ 'Fred'_


	5. Like a Serpent

_AN: I hate Adding these things in the middle of a story, but I thought I'd just point out that because I couldn't find a list of lessons and when they happen in first year (and I haven't been able to find my copy of Philosopher's Stone to check), that I would be changing it around. Some classes that happened later in the book, will be first and others that came first will be later. I will try to stick to the books as best as possible, but I don't have mine with me._

**Chapter 5. Like a serpent..**

"_Wake up Sssspeaker or you will be late for your feeding!"_ Darkscale hissed urgently from next to Sal's pillow. Her eyes were locked on to the sleeping form of her master as she poked at his face with her tail.

"_Not time yet, another hour before anyone ssstarts going down to the feassst...A Ssixth year sssaid ssso lasst night."_ he mumbled, trying hard to fall back into a light sleep, but was failing miserably because a tail kept poking his cheeks. He batted at the offending body part and rolled over on his other side, placing his back to the snake, which didn't help any.

Darkscale huffed and slithered over Sal and laid down next to his face again, resuming the irritating poking that she had been preforming earlier._ "But you want to be better than the otherss, you have to be the firssst, besidess, the Dark One iss out in the common room. You ssshould sspeak with him"_

Sal's eyes flickered open at that statement; Snape was in the common room and Darkscale wanted him to speak with his Head of House, nice. Sal looked over at the snake, who was now coiled on the pillow after seeing her master open his eyes. _"You want me to ssspeak with Professsor Ssnape...Why?"_

Darkscale rolled her eyes, or at least it looked like she did. _"Becaussse, he forgetsss hiss place, lassst night confirmed that, I sssaw how he sspoke to you...well you sshould lay low, but sstill, he wantss to prove he isss the top, he needsss to understand that he isss, in fact, at the near bottom."_

He sat up so that he could make sure no one else was awake while he dressed. He did want to be the first up and out on the first day of school, so that he could solidify his position as leader of the house, making it permanent. Slowly, Sal pulled his clothes out of his trunk, and took them into the bathroom. Once he was finished with the morning shower, which was disturbed by a worried Darkscale, who was still fearing that her master would be late, he slipped into his clothes and gathered up the near hysterical serpent.

Darkscale slithered up his sleeve and made herself at home around his neck taking on the appearance of a necklace. Indeed, if it weren't for her tongue and eyes moving all the time, one might think that was all she was, a piece of jewelry. She continued to hiss as the two made their way into the common room and sure enough, Snape was indeed seated in one of the many chairs there, but he was reading a newspaper and didn't notice that Sal had entered.

"_Walk up behind him and come around the front really ssslow, then ssstand there with a neutral expression on your face, with your handsss classped behind your back..." _Darkscale urged, her eyes glinting with purpose and mischief_._

Sal frowned and looked down into the eyes of his serpent with one brow raised. He had yet to move from the stairs that lead from the common room to the dorms.

"_Jussst do it."_ She added at his skeptical look.

Shrugging, Sal did just as she instructed. Slowly, he came out from behind Snape, walking tall and taking up a position right in front of the Professor, who was lowering his paper from his face with each step that Sal took. He had been preforming this act once he noticed Sal coming up on his side out of the corner of his eye.

Sal then clasped his hands behind him and tilted his head to one side, letting his expressionless face do all the talking. Darkscale was still telling him how to do things, coaching him on how to act like Tom...It was at this moment that Sal let a question float to the surface of his mind; how did Darkscale know how Tom, his father, acted?

But he didn't ask, he just stood there, watching with a sense of satisfaction as Snape seemed to become more and more uncomfortable with his presence; he hadn't even inquired as to what the boy wanted yet. Finally, as if reading Sal's mind, Snape folded the paper and crossed his legs, placing the paper on the table near him and setting a firm gaze on Sal.

(Snape's POV)

'_Damned Muggles are at it again, can't they just relax for a few years before declaring another emergency?'_ Severus shook his head a few times and turned the page of the paper he was reading, it was not as interesting as he figured it would be, really it wasn't. But he didn't have time to ponder on why the Prophet was so much more boring today than normal because a movement out of the corner of his eye alerted him that one of his snakes was up early.

He lowered the paper with each step the kid took, noticing that it must be a First year, otherwise he would have seen eyes or at least the top of a head by now. By the time the paper was low enough for Severus to see who the first year was, the boy was standing in front of him, head tilted to one side and hands clasped firmly behind his back, with that blasted snake wrapped around his neck. A flashback, much like Albus' last night, slithered its way into the front of the Professor's mind, making him shudder with the familiarity of the situation.

A cloaked figure gliding into Severus' view as he stood over an empty cauldron, which had, not more than a few seconds ago, held a very important potion. Slowly, dreading the identity of the cloaked being who had just banished his work, the young man raised his head up to spot the very last person he wanted to see tonight, Lord Voldemort, with Nagini wrapped around his neck and shoulders, almost like a necklace or scarf.

"So, you spent four hours yesterday and almost...six today, working on that...and it isn't done yet?" Voldemort spoke, his words, though soft, cut through the air like a knife.

He was standing right in front of Severus, with only the cauldron between him and his servant. His hands were behind his back, presumably clasped together around his wand and his head was tilted to the right a little, giving him the appearance of a curious bird. Nagini was slowly making her way down toward her master's hands, slithering down his back, while her tail and most of her body stayed wrapped around Voldemort's neck and shoulders; she wanted to be stroked and she was going to get it one way or another..

Severus shifted on the spot, focusing all his energy on not running away in terror; he messed up, he knew he did and now he may not get a chance to fix it. His eyes darted from Voldemort's blank face, to the dangerous end of the serpent, which was trying to disappear behind her master, presumably to sneak up on Severus. "I was just about..." he started, but was cut off by a gentle wave from his master and a soft hiss from Nagini.

"No Severus, you may have been 'just about' to do something important now, but you have been 'just about' to do something for awhile with no results...and just not doing what I asked for longer than that...and I'm sure, that if I had not come in here to check on you..."

Here he paused to turn away, looking down at his hidden hands for a moment, and twitched before facing Severus again, this time his face had a vicious smile on it. The twitch, Severus guessed, had been Voldemort petting Nagini.

"You would have been 'just about' to continue doing nothing...Tisk, tisk...Perhaps I should remind you of your place...Crucio!"

Severus blinked once to clear his mind of that memory. Yes, the boy in front of him was an exact replica of Severus' former master and it was obvious, from the way Albus was speaking of Tom last night, that this boy was the result of a night between Voldemort and Selene Chantt; for what reason was still not clear to any of them. But what was clear to Severus at least, was the plain fact that the boy was acting like his father, too much like his father to not know where he came from or to have not had any contact with someone who knew his father well and this had to be addressed. Simply put, the Professors were going to have to put their foot down and show the boy that he couldn't run the school and Severus was going to do it first.

He folded his newspaper and placed it down on the table near him, he then crossed his legs and put on his best 'what do you want' face.

(Sal's POV from here on out until stated otherwise)

"Yes? Is there something you needed?" he asked silkily, his eyebrow shooting up to add to his question.

Sal, who wasn't sure how to proceed, just acted on instinct, seeing as Darkscale was at a loss for a Tom-ish reply. He pulled his hands out from behind him, noticing the slight flinch that movement pulled from his Professor, and shoved one into his robe pocket, using the other to stroke Darkscale. He then fixed his face with a sly smile.

"Oh, no...Not really, just up early..." Sal continued to smile, pulling his hand out of his pocket now so that he could pick at his nails a bit while speaking.

"Mind if I go down to the Great Hall? I would like to be there before the others arrive, you know, to make sure I get_.._.._My_ share of the food? I'd hate to go into class hungry." The young Slytherin finished innocently, though he was sure the way he said the word 'my' had imprinted itself on his Head of House, just as he wanted it to.

Severus inclined his head to the young man in reply, just as the first group of his snakes came in from the dorms. "May as well, seeing as the competition just arrived" Severus tried to hide the smirk that was playing on his lips as he stated that fact, but he wasn't sure he pulled that off. Oh yes, the boy could play dirty, but so could Severus.

Sal just shrugged as he walked off toward the exit, two Sixth years and a Fourth year in tow. "True, they are here, but seeing as I'm in front..." he trailed off, letting his Professor choose the right words to finish the sentence.

The Great Hall was full of people before long, but Sal only had eyes for one; Potter. The boy was sitting next to Granger, who was giving the Empty-Headed Weasley boy a rather loud lecture about Hogwarts and the things you can and cannot do within the walls. Harry Potter was either truly not interested in what she said or had decided that the butterflies in his stomach were already too much to process and so chose to tune out Granger's words, for he only focused on his meal.

Sal wasn't sure how he knew that Potter had butterflies in his stomach, but he did, almost like he felt them without really having them himself...Odd, but not too bothersome at the moment. The rest of Gryffindor house was just as loud, if not more so than Granger at times. Her voice was the beacon of the house, being the one you could hear the most, though Sal was sure she would have been better suited in Ravenclaw with that mouth of hers being that directly wired to her brain.

The Weasley twins were not so bad, in fact, aside from their pranks, they were alright, at least they had something up stairs, where as their little brother didn't. All he had were the main organs that would keep him alive, the main one being a heart to help the blood run to the tiny thing that couldn't be called a brain and could only send basic signals; such as, eat, sleep, use the loo, do something stupid, eat again, sleep, eat...The pattern was easy to establish.

Sal then turned his eyes to his own table, taking in the different hushed conversations that filtered throughout the house. Most of the talk was codswallop and it even went as far as to state that Potter and Chantt were some how related, because someone on the train had said that Potter seemed to understand Chantt's snake, yet there was no proof that he was a Parselmouth.

Sal was incensed with that tid bit and knew of only two people who were in the same car as he and Darkscale, who could have let that slip, and they were both sitting with Potter now. Sal leaned over Draco, who was too busy eating to have noticed that rumor floating around the table, though how he missed it was beyond Sal, because the rumor had sprouted wings and was dive-bombing the whole table. Sal then asked Blaise, over a still oblivious Draco, to pass on a message down the table.

"Potter is a Parselmouth, but he is not related to me at all...Stole it from my father the little prick, like a leech...This information about him being a Parselmouth doesn't leave the table...I want everyone else to be shocked when it slips one of these days...and I want to be the one to out him"

He sneered at his last words, while Blaise just nodded in the affirmative and passed the word along. Draco looked up, startled at that bit of information, but then sneered as well at the thought of Potter just being a leech who stole the powers of others; obviously he didn't have any real powers of his own and this was a hilarious thought.

Sal frowned at Draco, as he broke out in a fit of near silent laughter that no one aside from Slytherin table, heard. The blonde, upon seeing the look on his future master's face, quickly steeled himself and explained.

"I just envisioned Potter as a leech...and it was hysterical." he stated matter-of-factly.

The rest of the table started to snicker and Draco noticed that Sal was now getting his 'greatly amused' smirk, which meant that all was forgiven. Breakfast was then a fun affair, with most of the Slytherins near Sal cracking jokes about Potter and his lackeys; it was bluntly obvious to Sal that they were sucking up to the next Dark Lord, but he didn't care, right now they were harassing Potter and that was fine with him.

Soon, Snape was coming down their table, handing out their schedules and making it clear that none of his snakes were going to miss any of their classes. Sal smirked at how mean Snape was making himself seem, when it was clear that he was probably a softy that was hiding behind this mask so that he wouldn't have to explain his true self to anyone. That idea actually made Sal slightly sick, he would much rather have mean, dark and dangerous Snape as his head of house than an easily offended and sensitive Snape who would tell on those who picked on him.

Like their Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. He looked the type who would cry if you called him a wimp. With that in mind, Sal took off to Transfiguration class, hoping that Professor McGonagall wouldn't favor her Gryffindors quite as much as he heard Snape did his Slytherins.

Slytherin house arrived first on the scene, filing into their seats under the watchful eyes of a tabby cat, who Darkscale said smelled like McGonagall._ "Must be hersss" _she hissed from his sleeve.

Sal had gotten permission from Dumbledore to keep his snake with him even in class so that she wouldn't hurt someone who couldn't speak to her, so long as the snake didn't cause any trouble. Unknown to Sal though, was the real reason he was allowed to keep his pet with him; Dumbledore didn't want the snake to spy for Sal while he was in class, if the snake was with him then it couldn't do any damage elsewhere.

The whole of the First year Slytherins started to talk about various things, everything except Transfiguration, which is why they were here in the first place. But Sal felt the need to ask Draco a simple question, although he already knew a basic answer to it. He turned halfway in his seat to look at his friend, who was sitting on his right where he was suppose to be, while Theo sat on his left.

"Have there ever been any Animagi who are younger than seventeen? How about ten or eleven?"

His question was innocent enough, though the cat on the table seemed to tense slightly and now focused solely on Sal and Draco. It didn't go unnoticed by Sal, but he brushed it off, not caring that the Professor's familiar was eavesdropping.

Draco shrugged and pulled out his First year Transfiguration book, prompting Sal to do that same while they talked. "Don't know, but I'm sure if they are powerful enough and have proper training.."

He opened the book and looked at the introduction before finishing. "It could be possible, why? You planing on becoming one?"

It was Sal's turn to shrug as he too opened the book to the introduction as the Gryffindors darted in, dashing madly for seats. "I might, I have already figured out what form I'll take through the first steps..."

An all out lie of course, seeing as he didn't add that he had transformed quite a few times, though he wasn't really lying was he? He just left it out.

Now Draco looked interested, he stopped reading his book and gave Sal his full attention, just as Granger sat down and looked over at the two Slytherins, having heard what they were talking about when she came in.

"Really? What is it?" he sounded as if he didn't know, but he had guessed it would some kind of snake, that much he was sure of.

Sal smiled and returned to his book, five minutes of pure silence passed, save for pages being turned and chairs being moved as new people turned up. Finally, he answered Draco, who had been polite enough to wait for a reply. The tabby had lost interest after two minutes of waiting, though she looked back over at the young Slytherin when he spoke, flinching when she heard the answer.

"A rainbow boa"

Draco nodded, though he didn't look up from his book. Granger also nodded, which made Sal wonder what she was nodding about, so he asked.

"What? Think it fits me?" his tone wasn't rude, but it was borderline cruel. It was meant to get a rise out of her, though it failed.

"Oh no, it does fit in a way, though, I would have it would be more...venomous is all"

She returned to her reading as well, leaving the whole of the Slytherin First years in stunned silence, save for one. Sal nodded as if seeing what she meant, but didn't inquire further as to what venomous form she thought he would have been. Granger wasn't done though, she glanced over at him once more.

"A cobra, or some kind of viper, anything that can kill you with a bite really"

As if embarrassed for revealing what she thought of the Slytherin, Granger looked back down at her book and didn't say a word in reply to her friend's questions. Just when Sal was about to ask a bit more on what she thought of him, the classroom was disturbed by the loud arrival of both Empty-Headed Weasley and Loose-Lipped Potter. Their names, given to them by Sal himself, fitted them perfectly. Weasley was stupid and Potter had the tendency to speak before thinking.

They both looked around as they approached the two empty seats that were waiting for them. Weasley was the first the speak and had thus been tagged for the storm that was about to strike.

"Wow, we must be in luck...I mean, we made it! Can you imagine the look on ol' McGonagall's face if we were late?"

He had only just finished that sentence when the tabby that was sitting on the table, became a very strict looking Professor McGonagall. Sal couldn't help himself, it just came out before Weasley could say the same.

"That was bloody brilliant...Perfect camouflage which added for a perfect attack" he added, noticing the look he was getting from the Gryffindors, which turned into nods soon thereafter.

McGonagall turned to face the young Slytherin, blinking a few times in disbelief, before giving the boy a small smile.

"Indeed Mr. Chantt, that is the primary reason for having an Animagus form...And to answer your earlier question, there haven't been any young Animagi that I know of, though it could be possible, but very, very dangerous"

McGonagall looked back at both Potter and Weasley. "You only just made it here on time, you were very nearly late, perhaps I should transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocket watch."

Both of the boys shared looks of pure horror. "Maybe then one of you might be on time?"

"We got lost." Potter blurted out suddenly, having remained silent until then.

"Then perhaps a map, surely you don't need one to find your seats..."

McGonagall turned on her heel, much like Snape did when he was finished murdering someone by removing points or belittling them. She didn't turn into a cat again, but instead, took up position in the front of the class, eyeing Potter and Weasley as they sat down, before setting the class on the task of turning a match or chopstick, in Sal's case, into a needle.

By the time the class was over, only two in Gryffindor and three in Slytherin managed to get a needle. Slytherin was awarded twenty five points, with ten each for Sal and Draco for being the first to get a needle with an eye and five to Neville, who got a needle without an eye; it only had an indentation where one was forming. Gryffindor got ten points for Granger; she got a needle with an eye a few seconds after Draco, who had been two seconds behind Sal once he managed to get it.

McGonagall had also been asked by Sal once the class had left, that if she chose not to be so formal and wanted to just call him by his first name to just call him Salazar because he wasn't partial to the name Harrison and all the short versions of it.

She was surprised that the boy would even bring that up, because she had only ever called him Mr. Chantt, but then again, hadn't his father wanted to be called...well...that, instead of Tom? At least the boy was still using his real name, and he did seem more like a Salazar than a Harry anyway. And perhaps it had to do with the fact that Harry Potter was called Harry and it looked to be a James Potter and Severus Snape like relationship forming between Sal and Harry. Of course the boy wouldn't want to be called by the name of his nemesis.

She agreed and Sal quickly followed his fellows into the dungeons, where their Potion's class was about to begin.


	6. The Cat and The Dungeon Bat

_AN: The instructions for the Boil-Cure Potion can be found on the Harry Potter Wiki. I used these instructions, but modified them a little as I figured Snape would want more detail, and those instructions are pretty simple, they don't even tell you to stir, but you have too. I also found a simple timetable for the first week of year one, so I'm going to move things around. On the 2__nd__ of September they had Herbology and then nothing on the third, Astronomy on the fourth, Transfiguration_ _on the fifth, and Potions on the sixth with nothing on the seventh...Well, now they have Transfiguration and Potions_ _on the 2__nd__, Herbology on the fourth, and Astronomy on the fifth...With the sixth being the recap for Potions and Herbology._ _And for those who don't know, the 2__nd__ is a Monday...just so you know._

**Chapter 6. The Cat and The Dungeon Bat.**

*SLAM!*

The clicking of boots on stone followed the loud and rather frightening entrance that a familiar shadow made. All eyes were on him as he took his place in front of the class, locking his glittering black eyes on every single student there, shifting them from one to the next. The humorous part was that he started this on the Gryffindor side, and lingered the longest on Potter, before finally getting to the Slytherin side and lingering the longest on Sal in that part of the room.

Snape then folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head down a little, so that his hair formed curtains around his pale face, hiding most of it in shadow, though his eyes only seemed to glitter more.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making." he let the words hang for a moment, then returned to scanning the room for someone who wasn't listening; so far so good.

"There is little to no foolish wand-waving here, as such many of you will hardly believe this is true magic. I don't expect any of you to really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes."

Again he let his words just float through the air, waiting for more to follow. Sal sat up straighter in his seat, while Draco looked like he was going to pass out from hyperventilation.

"The delicate power of liquids creeping through human veins. Able to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses...However"

Snape locked eyes with Sal this time and a sense of dread overcame the young Slytherin; for some reason, he just knew Snape was going to use him as some kind of point in this class.

'_Please let him use Potter too for his demonstration, I really hate it when people single me out for no reason.'_ he silently begged and Snape's eyebrows shot up as if he had read his thoughts.

The Professor then turned to the next Slytherin in the group and finished his sentence, leaving a very worried Sal behind. _'Great, he just used Legilimency on me'_.

"For those, skilled few, who possess the predisposition, I can teach all that was mentioned before and so much more...Like how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death..."

The sound of quill on paper brought Snape's eyes to the Gryffindor side of the room, where Potter was scribbling down something, apparently not paying attention to Snape at all.

The Professor's mouth opened for a moment and he started to work his jaw as if trying hard not to just snap right then and there.

"Then again, perhaps some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable...that you feel confident enough...to not pay attention!"

That was it, Snape lost it, he had given Potter those two pauses in his speech to look up and the boy didn't even notice.

Sal felt a painful spike in his ribs and looked over to see Theo grinning ear to ear. "This is gonna be good Sal, just watch!" he whispered.

Snape started toward Potter, slowly, like a cat stalking his prey or a wolf that was about to tear your throat out. "Mister Potter. Our new celebrity"

The Slytherins started to snicker, while the Gryffindors all groaned. Snape sneered slightly, before schooling his features into a blank, emotionless mask. Potter just stared back, his eyes a little wider than they were earlier and his quill was hanging in midair, where it had been about to finishing adding something to the paper before Granger made him aware of Snape,

"Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Potter just stared back, not answering, but he did slightly shake his head. Granger's hand had shot up into the air not more than a second after Snape had started to ask the question. Sal and Draco's hands were also in the air and surprisingly enough, so was Greg's and Neville's.

"You don't know? Well, let's try again, shall we? Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

Potter flinched when Granger's, Sal's and Draco's hands shot into the air again and his face turned a slight shade of red, he looked as if he had gotten just a pinch of sunburn on his pale skin.

"I don't know Sir."

He muttered so low that Snape actually leaned onto Potter's desk and put his nose only a few inches from Potter's own nose. A sneer starting to form once more on his previously blank face.

"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane? Surly you can answer one of these?"

Again four hands shot in the air, but Potter just shook his head and replied a little more firmly than last time. "I don't know Sir...but it looks as if Hermione knows the answer, perhaps you should ask her the same questions"

That did it.

Sal sucked in a breath and motioned with his lowering hand for Granger to do the same, she did, trusting the young Slytherin to know his own Head of House's warning signs.

Snape had been about to snap at Granger, Sal could see it, but Sal was sure that he only held off because he noticed Sal motioning for her to lower her hand, perhaps he figured that if one of snakes was willing to keep a lion out of trouble, she might be worth something. Whatever he thought, Granger was safe from his venom, unless she tried to answer one of those questions without prompting.

"For your information Potter..." here he froze, staring at Potter for a few seconds, before straightening himself out and walking away. When he turned around again at the head of the class, he had his trademark sneer on his face.

"Chantt!"

Sal looked over at his Head of House, a question clearly etched on his face. "Sir?"

Snape glanced at his young snake, giving him a softer gaze, as if apologizing for the sharp address. "What is the answer to the second question?"

Sal stood up so that the whole class could hear his words ring through the room.

"A Bezoar is a stone that can be found in the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons and a Snake-Stone, which is basically the same thing, can be used on some venoms, however, The venom of a Basilisk cannot be cured or slowed with a Bezoar or Snake-Stone. The only known antidote or cure for this venom is Phoenix tears"

Snape was stunned but quickly shook it off and nodded his head. "Correct, fifteen points to Slytherin for that excellent answer"

The Slytherins all took turns on patting Sal's back as he returned to his seat, beaming.

"Longbottom!"

Neville leaned forward in his seat, it was a well known fact that he feared his Head of House, but he was showing great restraint right now. He wasn't even shaking.

"Yes Sir?"

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane? Mr. Longbottom"

Neville smiled a little and then stood up. "That's easy sir" he began, which earned him a raised eyebrow from Snape. "Indeed?"

"Yes Sir, there is no difference. They are the same plant, more commonly known in the Potion Circle as Aconite."

Neville sat down again to receive the same pats that Sal had gotten as Snape nodded his head.

"Again, Correct...Ten more points to Slytherin"

Now his eyes trained to the other side of the room, focusing on Granger, who was still looking as if she desperately wanted to answer a question. She was standing up straight with her hand in the air so high, that she could have been used as a lightning rod.

Snape sighed and nodded toward her. "Granger...The answer to the first question if you please?"

"Asphodel and Wormwood are the base ingredients used to make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of the Living Death. The Wiggenweld Potion can reverse the effects."

She sat down, now quite satisfied that she had managed to at least show what she knew. However, Snape surprised them all by awarding her points and she beamed even more.

"Correct, ten points to Gryffindor" Snape scanned the room and sneered. "Well, why aren't you all copying this down? You will be tested on it later"

There was a flurry of movement as quills and parchment flew out of various bags, save for Potter and Sal, who already had their's out. Sal was writing it all down, while Potter just stared at Snape with a glare that plainly said 'if looks could kill you would be dead'.

Snape sent him the same glare back and then swooped down on him so fast, that Potter jumped back in his seat to prevent his nose from touching Snape's. Whatever was said between the two, it made Potter turn eight shades paler and Potions Master's face crack into a grin of pure malice and glee.

The class was then told to set up their cauldrons and lay out the ingredients that were provided before them. "And make sure you follow everything on the board! Exactly as it is stated!"

Sal looked up at the board and swallowed hard. Sure, he knew how to follow instructions and yes he read quite a few chapters of some potions books while at home, but actually brewing one, that was going to be a challenge.

_Boil-Cure Potion._

_1. Heat the cauldron until the base potion turns red. Stir once clockwise._

_2. Turn the heat up until turns green. Stir once counterclockwise._

_3. Pour Flobberworm Mucus until the potion turns pink. Stir clockwise four times._

_4. Heat again until it turns orange._

_5. Mix the dried nettles until it turns green. Stirring constantly counterclockwise while adding nettles until proper color is reached._

_6. Heat again until it turns blue._

_7. Mix crushed snake fangs until the potion turns pink. DO NOT STIR. _

_8. Take the cauldron off the fire._

_9. Mix Porcupine quills until the potion turns orange. Stir either way four times._

_10. Put cauldron back on the fire. Low heat._

_11. Pour stewed horned slugs until it turns turquoise. Again stirring constantly while adding slugs, this time clockwise until it reaches proper color._

_11. And last, heat the potion until it turns red. (Continuing to heat until it turns pink is more effective) _

Sal sighed and set to work, gaining help from Draco whenever he needed it, though it was rare and then lending the same help to Neville when he needed it. By the time the class was near finished, Sal's potion was a light red, Draco's was a little redder, Neville's was orange going on red and Granger managed to get a light red potion that was nearing pink. An explosion from the Gryffindor side alerted Snape, who had been checking the Slytherin's work, to Empty-Headed Weasley's epically failed potion, which covered both himself and Loose-Lipped Potter in the potion.

Both sprouted angry red boils and the potion melted anything it came in contact with. Sal had never seen Snape move so fast, the man literally flew across the room and snatched both of the Gryffindors out of danger. He then told them both off, cleared the mess on the floor away and sent them off to the Hospital Wing with a detention tomorrow and forty points lost.

"Now..." Snape looked back at the rest of the class. "Who can tell me what happened...Of course, Miss. Granger"

Granger jumped up and put her hand down. Somehow, she looked happy that something had gone horribly wrong in the class. "He didn't take the cauldron off the fire before adding the Porcupine quills"

"Correct"

Sal gathered all his belongings up, happy that Slytherin had managed to gain fifty points in all for their potions and Gryffindor only got twenty for both Granger and one of the twins, which Sal didn't know the name of; all he knew was that she had a twin sister in Ravenclaw.

As he and his friends left the classroom, Sal's internal smile moved to his mouth. Potions had been great, at he didn't blow anything up and managed to brew an acceptable potion.

"So, now what do we do? We have all day free now and our Homework isn't that hard, nor will it have to be turned in for a day or two" Draco asked, pulling Sal into one armed hug, which resulted in the poor lad being sandwiched between Draco and Theo, who had mimicked Draco's action on the other side of Sal.

"Don't know do I? This place is huge! Maybe we should explore it!" Theo cackled.

Sal shrugged and let Darkscale slid down onto his hand. "I don't care really, it would be nice to learn more about this place, but I have a need to write a letter to someone...I forgot to last night."

It was true, he had been so wrapped up in everything that was Hogwarts, that he forgot to write home and let Vern know what house he got in. Well at least now he could tell him how his first two lessons went. Draco nodded while Theo rolled his eyes.

"Whatever Chantt, well, I'm off to do some scouting...See you around!" And Theo took off like an owl with a mission down the hall. Draco just shook his head and wrapped his arm around Sal's shoulder again. "Let's both write home, I forgot to do so last night too".

Sal smirked and wiggled his way out of his friend's grasp, speeding down the hall, right past a slightly smiling McGonagall, shouting over his shoulder at Draco, who was now pelting after him with a grin of his own.

"I'll race ya Dragon!"

"Not a chance Tommy Boy!"

"No runnin in the hall!" called McGonagall from behind them, but it was only half hearted.


	7. A Spy among the Lions

**Chapter 7. A spy among the Lions**

By the time dinner was to be served in the Great Hall, the Grims had all just finished combing most of the castle that they were allowed to. The lot of them had gathered together shortly after Draco and Sal were done sending off their letters and had started their exploration right away. They encountered exciting house ghosts, rude upper years of Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and a few less than amused Heads of House. Yet none of them got detentions or loss of points, they were just sent on their merry way with some words of advice and caution, mainly from the Headmaster, who was under the impression that Sal was looking for some place to 'induct his followers'. It was a stupid idea, and Sal only knew what the old man was thinking because he didn't have his shields in place; why should he, the young man can't do Legilimency can he?

Well yes he could, basic Legilimency, but still enough to get information from those who don't have any Occlumency skills or just don't have their shields up. It was all in all, an enjoyable day. They even managed to make a semi-friend in Gryffindor, who agreed to spy on her fellow lions for her new snake friends to make sure they were never the victims of some kind of prank; if she could help it. Hermione, or Runs-With-Snakes, as she was dubbed by the Grims, was quite happy to share any information with them, so long as it was only to keep Gryffindor and Slytherin from attacking each other, in turn for not being the 'Mudblood' that they all ganged up on.

It took a lot of talk from Hermione to the backs of the Grims before they chose to even acknowledge her at all, and once they did, Sal was the first to make the agreement that it would be good to have an 'ally' in the lion's den for now. If she could prove herself to them, which she would have the rest of the year to do so, she would be called a friend instead of just an ally. There was a fat chance of her ever being a Grim, unless she did something they considered worthy, such as standing up for them or saving one of their lives, but at this point there were no such thoughts running through their minds; they were eleven for Merlin's sake, what trouble could they think of that would lead to their deaths?

The Grims also had their first actual run in with the Weasley twins. They were attempting to prank Filch, whom Sal liked a lot. The man was mean to everyone else, but seemed to like Sal more than any other student there. When Sal was doing something 'suspicious' in the corridors earlier, Filch just walked by with a whispered request that it be nothing he would have to deal with later. Surprisingly, Snape only smirked at him when Sal repeated what had happened to his Head of House on his way down to dinner with his friends. The prank didn't go too well and the twins wound up in detention for flooding the halls with a smelly goo that wouldn't come off clothing. Most people had to either throw out whatever got the goo on it or have a House Elf clean them a few times. Sal and his friends managed to avoid the mess but were not so lucky in avoiding being seen by the twins, who both looked as if they had painted a target on the Grims backs for later pranking.

As Slytherin house took their respective places at the house table, two members of said house were scanning the Gryffindor table for any signs of Runs-With-Snakes, Sal seemed quite taken with the girl, in a different way than what his fellows suggested, and it was he who was scanning the rival house the most. His companion, Draco, was just helping his friend out. He knew that Sal enjoyed the girl's company because she was smart, knew her place most of the time, and didn't judge him by his house placement or name.

Finally, they both spotted her at the same time, walking back from Hufflepuff table where a friend was obviously sorted. She glanced their way and smiled, forcing Draco to look over at the Staff table as an excuse and Sal to look down, blushing. A strange thing that, the feeling he got when she looked over at him, but it was more of an 'accepted' feeling than embarrassment; he just didn't know what made him blush. Sal threw the feeling aside and quickly looked back at Gryffindor house. Laughing hysterically in the middle of the table were the twins. Both were looking over at Loose-Lipped Potter's failing attempt to thump Empty-Headed Weasley on his back, probably to dislodge some food that the boy had inhaled. And right next to the both of them, looking quite sour, was Hermione. She wasn't happy to be seated next to Weasley, who was turning a beet shade of red from lack of oxygen to his small lungs. She kept pulling her plate around so that she was facing away from them, almost sitting sideways on the bench. With one last, mighty slap to Weasley's back, Potter managed to knock out the offending food, which soared across the table and landed on the floor.

"A potato possibly" Theo said suddenly from Sal's left, nodding toward the piece of food on the floor. Sal shrugged, he could care less what it was that almost killed Weasley just now, he was too busy trying to eat his own dinner.

"Possibly" was all he said as he stuffed a potato into his mouth, smirking at how Draco rolled his eyes at his immediate choice of food.

"Honestly, you'd think they would teach their children how to chew their food" Draco began, frowning down at his plate while cutting up his meat. "I understand they don't have a lot of money, but manners are free...Unless none of them know any. And survival instincts, those should be inherited"

Sal nodded in agreement just as a shadow formed over their plates. "Indeed, but then again, what Gryffindor has ever been known for their survival instincts?" The deep voice drawled and Theo, Neville, Sal and Draco all snorted as Snape glided past them on his way over to the Prefects.

"True that, all Gryffindors are always getting into trouble" Neville added, also dishing out some potatoes with a grin.

"Or causing it. Mostly causing it..." Draco murmured. The other three continued eating without a reply, letting the conversation die to more mature things from the older students. Fifteen minutes had gone by with nothing being said between the friends as they chomped through their dinner and desert, when Sal felt a tap on his shoulder. Slowly, he turned around, expecting to either see his Head of House or perhaps just an upperclassman. So he was considerably surprised to see Hermione standing there with an open book clutched to her chest.

"I was thinking about what you said earlier today, about being able to see what your form would be...That is quite advanced" she started, suddenly pushing her way in between both Theo and Sal so that she could sit on the seat.

Theo looked angry at the action while Sal looked confused. Draco and Neville just shook their heads and glanced about the table, reassuring their fellows that she wasn't lost and that Sal was allowing it.

"So, I decided to do some research while taking a break from my essays. Most cases of young Animagi, shape shifters, potions masters, expert duelists ..et cetera, ranging from ages thirteen to seventeen, have been tied to very powerful families..." She pulled out the book so that Theo, Sal and Draco could look at it with her. Neville leaned around Draco to look at the book as well, earning him a look from the offended young wizard.

"There is a myth that surrounds one of the founders, Salazar Slytherin to be exact, stating that the whole of the line was able to transform into a serpent, some venomous, some not. Some could even take on the forms of many serpents, so they are not Animagi, but just shape shifters that can only take on snake, or snake like forms. Its not clear if all of them were able to, nor if Salazar was even one but that's just it, they are myths...Rumors really."

Hermione pointed at one of the pictures of a man halfway through a transformation between a man and a snake. The image brought back memories of having watched Conan the Barbarian on the Telly with Vern one day when Petunia and Dudley were out. The scene that the picture mostly resembled was when the main villain, Thulsa Doom, transformed into a snake, leaving his robe on halfway through the event so that the snake was wearing it. Though this picture looked more painful than Thulsa Doom's little stunt.

"I know you are a descendant of Slytherin, I've heard the talk...And if you are able to see your form through meditation, then you should be able to take the form as well within a year or two if you practice..." Here she shut the book and looked Sal over before continuing.

"But, you should only attempt it while being supervised by an elder, more experienced Animagus, like Professor McGonagall. Otherwise you could be stuck in the snake form because the snake mind will want to remain a snake and you won't be able to fight it, thus, you will not think you are a wizard, just a snake and that means you will never be able to change back unless someone else knew you were an Animagus or shape shifter and turned you back in time."

The way Hermione stated it made Draco shudder, Neville swallow hard and Theo look back down at his plate. Sal, However, just kept a cool expression on his face and then slowly smiled.

"You have put a lot of thought into this Hermione...Or shall I call you Runs-With-Snakes?" he smirked, stabbing a bit of tart with his fork.

Hermione pursed her lips and then stole a piece of pie from the plate near Sal's. "Well, I was thinking about it because I didn't want you doing anything foolish now that you know you possibly could become a Animagus or shape shifter...and no, I prefer to be called Hermione...you can use Runs-With-Snakes in letters or whatever so others don't know who that is..."

"I'm sure they could guess if they thought hard enough" Draco grumbled, looking about the hall for someone who had noticed where Hermione was sitting. Luckily enough, no one was looking at the Slytherin table; it was as if they were invisible.

"Oh...Nevermind" Draco poked at his pie and watched as Hermione grinned at his reply.

"I cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on the table when I came over here, wouldn't want to ruin your reputation now would I?"

Sal snickered and then patted her on the back. Draco frowned and mumbled something nasty under his breath, making Neville sputter on his drink.

"Now why didn't you get sorted into our house? You're much too clever and sly for Gryffindor"

The rest of the nearby Grims, who had been listening to the conversation quietly, all started to ask multiple questions about various subjects at this time. Many had heard that Runs-With-Snakes was a genius, and that meant they could bombard her with questions to advanced things and get a good answer. If she didn't know it, she'd look it up and wouldn't rest until she found it. Obviously her being seated at the table meant that even though she was a Muggleborn, she was accepted by their new leader. That didn't mean she would be accepted by them all, just used as a tool seeing as she was helping to advance them in their studies.

After a long and tiring interrogation, Hermione said goodbye to her new 'friends' and disappeared into the growing crowd of Gryffindors near the entryway and earning glances from Potter and Weasley which were followed by the usual 'where were you?' that normally happened whenever she disappeared. The Slytherins all filed into line, with Sal leading the First and Second years, yet following all years above Second. Silence greeted all who passed Slytherin house as they walked to their common room, other houses that passed by were either chattering among themselves or were shouting to friends and siblings in other houses. Once they arrived in the common room, all except for Draco, Neville and Sal went up to bed.

"Well today was quite eventful, wouldn't you say so Sal?" Draco asked casually while plopping down ungracefully onto one of the leather seats across from the couch that Sal and Neville were both sitting on.

"Quite, not at all as bad as I initially thought it would be, though I must say..." Sal paused as Snape entered and took a seat in one of the chairs farthest from the three boys. He pulled out a stack of papers and placed them on a high table in front of him and started to grade, ignoring the looks of suspicion that he was receiving from Sal.

"That Loose-Lips and Empty-Head really should grow a brain." He finished, his voice lowered a little more so that if Snape were listening, he would have to lean toward them a little to hear. He didn't do so though, which made Sal relax some.

"Maybe we should plant one in there" Neville offered helpfully, grinning a little when Sal and Draco smirked back.

"Nah, if we did it wouldn't grow. Not enough light filters in there you see" Sal snorted at Draco's words and Neville sighed violently.

"You're right, mold couldn't grow in there either...no water"

Sal smiled at Neville and replied.

"Yeah, guess they ever wash behind their ears or else they'd get some in there." The three of them all started to snicker and Sal noticed that Snape's mouth twitched a little.

"One thing is for sure...Loose-Lips is a Mushroom...Someone kept him in the dark and fed him shit all his life. In a way, I feel sorry for the bloke." Sal said nonchalantly, picking a bit of lint off his robes as Draco nodded.

"Right, he may be a Mushroom, but seriously, the guy really isn't trying to learn much is he? Always looking for conspiracies being hatched by us...Maybe Empty-Head and Twinkle-Eyes are feeding him the shit?"

Neville and Sal frowned thoughtfully while they all relaxed into their respective seats. Snape flinched at the mentioning of Twinkle-Eyes, he was pretty sure who that was and so he was pretty sure they were speaking of Potter and possibly Weasley.

"What did you think about Runs-With-Snakes' idea? You know..." Neville watched as Draco trailed off, looking over at Snape as if to let them know he was definitely listening in.

"I have a confession...I have done that first bit, without being watched...Darkscale helped to put me right though. Won't do it again unless my life really depends on it until I get help from ol' Grey-Ghost."

Draco and Neville both looked shocked at this revelation, but schooled their features when they noticed Snape glancing up from his grading work with a look of pure confusion in his eyes only

"Maybe we should head up to bed...He looks like he is trying to catch us at something and might be putting the pieces together"

Sal shrugged at Draco's idea and stood up. "If you insist" he huffed, mock pouting as he left the common room with his friends trailing behind him with matching smirks; Wraith was going to be a pain as an older teen...What kind of adult was he going to be?

"I'll say that Breakfast should be nice, what with the mail we should be getting" Draco sighed, dropping into bed and pulling his curtains around him like a wall.

"Yep, let's hope that none of us gets a howler" Sal smirked, throwing a knowing look at Draco's bed as Neville and Theo both snorted at the muffled reply of "Stuff it Chantt".

"Stuff it...right, stuff it...you're telling the Dark Lord to stuff it? Nice one Malfoy, don't expect to remain his right hand for long with an attitude like that". Theo said in a near whisper so that only his dorm mates could hear.

"Or even breathing" Neville added in just as low a whisper.

"None of you will be breathing if you lot don't shut it and let me sleep. And the killing curse will not be my choice of tool...Too quick and painless for my tastes" came the cold and vicious retort from Sal's end of the room.

"_Too much like your father Sssal...Maybe we ssshould try acting a bit more like your mother."_ Darkscale seemed cowed at his whispered words as she stumbled to try and calm her master.

"_Enough, I'm tired"_ he replied, letting his exhaustion filter into his speech.

Though he was sure that his friends, who were whispering again among themselves at what they had thought was Sal's attempt at a joke, had though he was hissing at them.

There were multiple gasps from around the room and even a squeak of terror that emitted from Neville's bed. The silence that reigned after Sal's unknown, perfectly timed Parseltongue statement brought a smile to the young man's lips; oh yes, he still had it in him.


	8. The troubles of Cats and Snakes

**Chapter 8. The troubles of Cats and Snakes.**

Morning came much too quickly for Sal's liking. It felt like he had only just gotten to sleep five minutes ago and already Theo was jumping on the end of his bed trying to rouse him. Out of all the boys in the Grims, Theo was the least mature, the kid was a terror. Sal was positive that it was only because he, Sal, was leading Slytherin House, if he wasn't sorted there or didn't have the pull he did, Theo wouldn't be acting his age. He would behave just as any pureblood boy should, proper and prim. But that just wasn't the case, Sal was in charge, basically, of the house and that meant that most of the things that the Grims got up to were overlooked.

And Sal knew that it wouldn't last.

For some reason he just knew that his fellow snakes were waiting for the right moment to test him, to see if they should take over or if he could handle it. Now as to what they really wanted, Sal didn't know. They may want a new Dark Lord or they may think him the chosen to bring the old one back. Whichever the case, Sal was in the middle of it and unfortunately, his good luck ran out at noon on Tuesday...today.

No classes were scheduled for that day and Sal had finished all of his homework, much to the dismay of a few of his comrades, who hadn't even started on theirs. Breakfast was a fast affair for Sal and Draco, the both of them were eager to explore more of the castle and no one was going to stop them from enjoying the one day they had free of class, homework, annoying Professors and irritating classmates. Plus, Draco wanted to find Hermione and ask her a few things about his work, cheating in Sal's opinion, but of course the blonde would do what he wanted.

"You know, if anyone found out that you were having Runs-With-Snakes check your work-"

"No one will know if you don't say anything about it Chantt. Besides, she is a Mudblood, we aren't even suppose to be looking at her, let alone talking to her...If you insist she be apart of this alliance and force us to accept her as being at least close to us if not equal, then we have the right to exploit this relationship" Draco spat, looking right at Sal with his piercing greyish eyes.

Today had not started off great for Sal and it seemed that it was only going to get worse. For example, everything he said offended his friends in one way or another and they were a hard bunch to offend normally, though he had only really known them for a grand total of two days so normally might not be the right word. Perhaps they were on their best behavior before so that they could befriend him and now their true colors were shining through. Or it was a test to see how far they could push him. Well, Draco was pushing Sal's buttons and today Sal felt like using one of his father's gifts to him instead of just bottling it up. Everyone who had known Tom at all knew he had a temper and knew he could hide it well, pretending to be fine and then just explode when they least expected it.

Sal was like that, and Sal was also one who didn't take to making true friends very quickly, it was hard to earn his trust and even harder to keep it. Draco was on the verge of damaging his relationship with Sal, who took his father's thoughts on loyalty way too seriously.

"And really, you should be more like a Slytherin instead of this Hufflepuff nonsense of being friends with people like her...I think you may have been sorted in the wrong house.."

"Really?" Sal's voice was like ice, yet it had a soft, almost alluring effect.

There was a short moment of silence between the friends, where Draco kept his mouth shut, thinking that perhaps he had gone too far this time, for he felt that strange suffocating sensation that his father had warned him about when he was in the presence of the Dark Lord. The one that stated the clear fact; you stepped over that fine line and now you will suffer the consequences. But there was also that little bit of Draco's brain that reminded him that Sal was just eleven and was probably used to getting his way or being coddled, so he would expect others to cave easily under pressure. Well Draco wasn't going to give up that quickly...and so he pressed on.

"Yes, really. You are much too weak, you keep making new friends and looking all hurt when people don't play nice with these new friends. You force others onto your true friends, the Grims, who are suppose to be an army in the making, not some fan club. You're also not cold enough, not sly enough, people can read you like a book. I think all that coddling you got back home has messed you up-"

"Oh and you would know all about my being coddled now wouldn't you?" he snapped, his tone was becoming hard and vicious. "How would you like to meet my coddling Aunt? How would you like to spend a day or two under her rule, being a house elf for her and her family? Working without food for days or trips to the loo for hours and hours on end?"

He kept his voice down, but the heat was rising on his face as he stood up from his seat. All eyes from Slytherin house were now focused on Sal's rant, some were amused that he cracked, other were terrified at how much he did look like his father when his top blew. Sal's words were coming out rushed now, in a whisper that only Draco, Neville and Theo could hear, but his words didn't lose their power even though Sal was close to actually losing it.

"You know nothing of where I come from Malfoy, you with your doting parents and tons of money, willing servants and lifelong friends. I come from the other side, the side where you are seen as filth, cared for very little or only have one ally who can only provide for you the basics in small amounts or else risk being exposed as the traitor to the rest of them that they are. True I have money now and at least an Uncle who will care for me, but my young life has always been full of wants and needs, wants and needs that I either didn't get or was too far gone when I finally got them to really enjoy it."

Neville shifted uncomfortably next to Draco, who was pale and was steadily sinking into his seat, shoulders slumping with each of Sal's well placed words. The rest of the house were leaning in, looking shocked at what they learned and one even sent a pleading look up at the Staff table to summon Snape down to deal with the angry young man before things got really ugly.

"Yes, my being coddled has messed me up, so please, do forgive me if I wish to make things work for me for once instead of working for others while I ssssuffer."

Sal suddenly stepped over the bench and whipped away from the table with that parting hiss. But stopped just short of the end of the table so that he could turn around and state to the whole of Slytherin, though anybody else could hear it too if they were listening instead of talking among themselves, like Potter and Weasley...Well, the whole of Gryffindor table really. Sal was looking calm again, his eyes were the only thing that gave away the fact that he was furious; they were red with slitted pupils.

"You really shouldn't judge a book by its cover, if you do, then you dismiss the knowledge it holds within. If you chose to read the pages, yet not really absorb what you read, then it would be the same as if you had chosen to ignore the book altogether"

His eyes started to roam the house tables slowly, as if imprinting his words into the minds of those who were listening and finally made it to the Staff table where all of the Professors were sitting, watching him intently like hawks waiting for their prey to start running, or in Sal's case, cursing anything that breathed into oblivion.

"One should never turn away those who seek them for guidance, a job or friendship, for you may not be friends with the one they turn to if you cast them aside, or like who they become if they have no one to go to. And if the one you cast aside holds skills and power...I'll let you figure out where that leaves you in the end."

His tone was still the same controlled coldness as it was when he started this little one way conversation, but his eyes had reverted to his normal teal-ish silver; which Hermione had said looked like teal tinted chrome. Sal turned toward the doors with a fluid motion and in a blink of an eye he was gone.

Before anyone could say a word he had left the hall in a flurry of shadows, an angry serpent following in his wake, casting looks behind her that the other humans couldn't understand. Sal's well controlled outburst had shaken most of the Great Hall's inhabitants. The Staff were worried that someone had finally pushed too hard and now they had Tom Riddle all over again, the Students were worried that this new Dark Lord was going to start killing people now instead of just staring at them and whispering.

The Slytherins all sat silently together, looking nowhere but ahead of them at their food. They didn't speak to one another for the rest of the meal; all minds were on one subject, was it wise to push him? Yes he had proven that he wasn't weak, he didn't really crack or brake down, no he had simply told them off as if unable to shed tears. Maybe he had cried them all out ages ago or maybe he was like Tom in that he couldn't cry, couldn't love...Couldn't care at all.

Albus sat next to Minerva and Severus, who were sharing a rare conversation between the two of them as they both stood up to leave. The Headmaster didn't hear their words nor notice that they were leaving early, for his mind was elsewhere.

'One should never turn away those who seek them for guidance, a job or friendship...'

Those words were directed at him mostly and he knew of whom the boy spoke of. Tom had come to Albus for a job as the Defense Professor once, but Dumbledore had said no and now look at where the man was today. Look at all he had done. Sal was heading that way and today he had asked for help in the only way he could without seeming weak. Now the question remained, should Albus help him?

"Sssstop! Ssspeaker pleassse ssstop!"

"_Why?" _he hissed back, continuing to stalk away from the Great Hall, not sure of his destination but wanting to get as far away as possible from prying eyes.

"_Becaussse we need to talk...You have your father'sss perssonality, only just muted by your mother'sss. We need to get that temper of yoursss under control lesst it be the death of you."_

Sal stopped and faced his snake, who was slithering up his leg to lock eyes with him. _"The death of me?"_

"_Yess, the death of you, either before you make it out of ssschool or afterward iss not the issssue. The isssue iss that you will die if you continue down thiss path, you are being watched by the Sssparkling-Eyed-One, he was and ssstill is your father'sss enemy and will not hesssitate to kill what he believesss iss another Lord Voldemort. You have to learn how to hide your painss and anger, find a new way to vent."_

Sal paused for a moment, looking up from Darkscale to focus on a figure that was leaving the Great Hall, it was Potter, followed closely by Weasley. Neither one looked happy and it was Weasley who had caused this from the whispering he was doing into Potter's ear. Sal locked eyes with the young man and was startled at how easily he could see into his mind; the kid was pathetic.

(Ron Weasley's Memory of the Great Hall incident)

Weasley stabbed a Banger violently with his fork, shooting glances at the rest of his table as he leaned over to where Potter was now staring at the fleeing form of Sal.

"I knew it! He is a Dark Lord in the making, just listen to him rant about power and skills. Obviously someone didn't want to play by his rules so he had a fit"

Potter frowned and shook his head while looking up at the Staff table to see who was going to chase after him, but no one save for Snape and McGonagall moved. "I thought it was a rather complicated way of telling someone to not think he is evil just because of where he came from or whatever"

Weasley rolled his eyes and then pointed his fork over at the Slytherin table with a grin.

"Right then, so why are the Slytherins all looking like death is upon them? The kid is evil! And now he is going to exact some kind of revenge! We have to get to him before someone gets hurt, didn't you see the way both he and Malfoy are watching Hermione? They know she is Muggleborn and now they are going to do something to her!"

Potter's eyes widened and he looked over at where Hermione was now sitting with some friends in Hufflepuff. The lot of them were a looking a little worried at Sal's display and kept their eyes averted from the Slytherin table.

"Alright then, what do you think we should do? We can't duel and there is no way any of the Professors will believe he is up to no good seeing as so far he is the top of the class and has most of the teachers eating out of his hands."

Weasley nodded over to where Dumbledore was sitting. "He will believe us...But we have to get more evidence first I reckon or he won't be able to do anything about it"

Potter nodded slowly in agreement and then put his fork down and stood up.

"Right, lets go catch him in the act then"

(End of memory)

"So, coming to cause some trouble while the Professors aren't looking?" Sal taunted, his eyes shifting from Potter to Weasley while his right hand clasped his wand tightly. Darkscale hissed in warning from his leg.

"_No! You mussst not fight! It will only be you getting in trouble for it after what jusst happened in there!"_

Sal shrugged her off and stood his ground, keeping his wand ready should he need it but not planning on responding to any spells unless they were life threatening. Taunts would be his weapon seeing as both Potter and Weasley were prone to act on them.

"Come on then, lets see what the hero and his sidekick can do against the Heir of Slytherin!"

Weasley was the first to throw a spell his way, and Sal stepped out of the way effortlessly. "A tickling charm? Really?" Sal smirked.

He kept his wand at his side and noticed that Potter was now lowering his, a look of fear and comprehension now dawning on his face; Chantt was luring them into a trap, baiting them and they were taking it. Weasley, however, was still focused on throwing spells at Sal and they were becoming more and more dangerous, even though they were only small cutting hexes.

"Ron! Wait! This is a trap, he is trying to get you to curse him, I mean, look!"

Weasley paused only for a second while Potter pointed out the obvious. "He isn't even fighting back, just taunting!"

"Well then that's his loss isn't it? Expelliarmus!"

Sal's wand flew out of his hand and landed a few feet away from him. He had not been expecting that from Weasley at all, maybe just more of those petty jinxes and perhaps a few hexes but actually disarming his opponent?

"_I'll get your wand Ssspeaker!"_ Darkscale shouting with glee as she slithered toward the wand. But Sal didn't hear her, nor did anyone of the boys there even remember that the snake existed because the duel was still on.

Again yet another cutting hex from Weasley even though it wasn't necessary because Sal couldn't get to his wand, this time Sal wasn't fast enough to dodge it and a cut formed on his cheek. Not part of the plan, he didn't want to be hit by anything, just to keep it up long enough for a Professor to catch them. He stood there, shocked, looking over at where his wand now lay and then back over at Weasley as he cast another hex toward Sal.

Potter quickly grabbed his friend's wand and tried to yank it out of his hand, which made his poorly aimed hex hit Sal in the back as he dove toward his fallen wand. Potter let go and then froze, his wand also pointed now at Sal, who was facing them, now motionless, half sitting on the floor with a look of pure terror on his face. He was staring not at Potter or Weasley, but down at a black lump on the floor right where he had landed.

"Well now, what have we here? Two Gryffindors attacking an unarmed Slytherin...How typical"

Snape drawled from the entrance of the Great Hall, his lips curled into a sneer of triumph. He didn't notice the shocked and confused Slytherin sitting on the floor, poking at the limp form of his familiar. But Potter did and so did McGonagall when she arrived, having heard from Snape's own mouth that two of her Lions were involved in attacking one of his Snakes.

"Severus, I believe their punishments can wait...There is another matter you must deal with" she stated, pointing an angry and disbelieving Snape toward his injured and now panicking student.

Sal had Darkscale in his hands, holding her up to his dry, yet frightened looking face, hissing in Parseltongue to the limp form that was just hanging there with his wand in her mouth.

"She won't move...she isn't speaking to me" he said in a low voice, it was laced with accusation as he moved his eyes from the Professors onto Weasley and Potter.

"And we will fix her right now" Snape said suddenly, his voice taking on a tone that McGonagall hadn't heard from him before; fear. He strode over to where Sal was sitting and took the limp serpent from him, letting out a sigh as he realized she was still breathing, even though it was only just.

"Hagrid can deal with this I'm sure?" Snape asked while stroking the weak familiar.

"Of course" McGonagall quickly turned around and flew back into the Great Hall, returning only a few seconds later with a put out Hagrid at her side.

"Give her here Professor, I'll fix her up if I can dependin' on how bad it is"

Snape handed the snake over, removing the wand and giving it back to the still stunned Slytherin.

"_I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to get hurt, you are my friend"_ he hissed, but got no reply.

It was then that he noticed who had her and he quickly looked over at Snape, who he knew could do Legilimency and stared into his black eyes.

' _Not him! He hates me and might kill her! He knew my father from school and my father did something to him I'm sure of it!'_

He almost shouted mentally, though Snape showed no signs of having used his skill. Until he spoke. Snape motioned to McGonagall as Hagrid walked away with the snake in his hands, though he looked like it was a foul beast rather than just a pet.

"Perhaps you could look in on..." he trailed off as he waited for Sal to give her the name of the snake, but he didn't let his eyes leave the Head of Gryffindor.

"Darkscale" Sal whispered, watching Hagrid disappear out onto the grounds.

"Darkscale to make sure she is fine? We all know how Hagrid feels about...certain snakes"

Snape raised his eyebrows at her as he finished. And it appeared that McGonagall got the message. With a huff, she became what Sal called The Grey Ghost and trotted off after Hagrid. Normally she wouldn't do such things, but because Snape was going to deal with the three boys and Hagrid did hate Tom Riddle, McGonagall figured she would check on the snake for the young lad who didn't seem as much like his father as others said and seemed to want him to be.

"Right" Snape turned around to face the two Gryffindors, who were trying to sneak back into the Great Hall while Snape and McGonagall were busy. "Going somewhere?"

The boys froze in place and then shook their heads as they faced their angry Professor. "Another detention for the both of you and now fifty points from Gryffindor for dueling and attacking an unarmed fellow student. Not to mention the possible murder of said student's familiar...Though I'm sure she will be fine." he added, seeing the look of pure hatred that Sal sent him at thinking she would die.

"She is tough, Darkscale will survive" he stated firmly, before sending the same glare toward the two Gryffindors. "But if she should die...you both will pay for the rest of your lives-"

"And they will but properly" Snape cut Sal off, much to the relief of Weasley and Potter. "Detention starts in an hour, be in my office, ready for some hard labor" Snape sneered, then motioned for Sal to follow him.

"You are going to the infirmary where you will be patched up"

Sal just nodded, sighing as he spotted his fellow First Year snakes standing in the doorway of the Great Hall with what looked like the entire student body behind them. None of them seemed to show any pity or anger, nor did they seem to show that they had noticed his display of weakness by being disarmed. They just stood there silently, as if waiting for orders...Oh. Sal shook his head and nodded off toward the dungeons. All the snakes present started off there without a word; they would be waiting for him to return and fill them in when he was done in Hospital.

(Hagrid's hut about an hour later)

Minerva sat silently on the table in Hagrid's hut, watching over the half-giant as he worked to keep Sal's pet from dying. Five minutes ago the great serpent woke up and started to hiss at Hagrid and the cat on the table, whom she knew to be McGonagall after her stunt in the classroom. To say that Minerva was surprised to find that she could understand the snake in her Animagus form would be an understatement. The cat's eyes grew wide and her jaw hung open.

"_I know you can underssstand me Head of the Lionsss, make thisss oaf ceassse what he isss doing. It hurtsss!"_

Darkscale thrashed about wildly. "Hold still or I'll let yeh bleed out right here! I don' have time to waste on a dirty snake tha' don' want my help." she stilled after that outburst, but didn't stop trying to get Minerva to do something.

Minerva shook her head and answered. "I'm afraid not, you see, you have been gravely injured and he is the only one able to heal animals...how is it I can understand you but not other serpents?" she inquired, jumping off the table and landing on the pillow near the fire where the snake was laying.

"_Becaussse, I am a magical ssserpent. All magical animalsss can underssstand each other ssso long asss they try. And you are an Animaguss, which iss magical...asss if you didn't know"_

The snake seemed to sneer.

Minerva sighed and swished her tail back and forth quickly, she figured she would use this to her advantage and get some answers. "So, is your master, Mr. Chantt, really trying to become a Dark Lord? And do try not to lie to me" she scolded, knowing that the snake was loyal to her master.

Darkscale looked angry and reared up with a hiss, forcing both Minerva and Hagrid to recoil in fear of being struck. "Watch it! Yeh'll pull 'em stitches out!"

"_No he issn't trying. My masster isss ssspecial and doessn't like hiss father...he takess after hiss mother that one, only hiss temper and lookss are hiss father. Partss of hisss perssonality I guessss, but he isss a perfect mix of hiss parentss, much how Potter iss obviously a perfect mix of hiss parentss."_

She laid back down on the pillow, allowing Hagrid to return to repairing her while listening to McGonagall try and reply.

"I am sorry, but it just seems that he is so-"

"_Dark and myssteriouss? Ssome timess quite sssnappish and dangerouss?"_ Darkscale supplied.

"Well yes" Minerva looked Nervous. She was not used to talking to a snake, let alone the pet snake of the son of Lord Voldemort.

Darkscale laughed, making Hagrid pause as he waited for the snake to stop shaking, perhaps thinking that he had hurt her. She then laid her head on one of his knees so that she had a view from above Minerva and the cat had to look up at her a little.

"Well so long as yeh don' try an' bite me again. Yeh can lay there, jus' don' move too much "

Hagrid mumbled, slowly poking and pulling at different areas on the injury that had been caused by a stray cutting hex and the hard landing that Sal made on her.

"_Well he comess from a life that iss lesss than undersstanding, from people who hated hisss being different from othersss and sssuffered for it. Sso he will be sstrange and mean ssometimesss" _

Minerva didn't need to ask what 'suffered for it' meant, she knew that it meant that poor boy was from a home that was full of abuse. Probably something close to what Severus came from.

"I see, well do try and keep him on a short leash, all Albus needs is to think he is becoming his father and that would be an excuse to have him expelled. And have him speak to Severus Snape, his Head of House. Severus is very good with these kinds of cases."

Again the serpent reared up but this time she didn't hiss nor was she high enough up that Hagrid had to stop his work._ "I will sssee what can be done, the Sspeaker iss trying to fit in with hisss housse but right now they are presssing him to be like their parent'sss masster sso thingss will be out of hand for awhile I fear."_

The cat waited for a bit, trying to think of other things to discuss with the snake now that she had the opportunity to speak with her. Then an idea hit her.

"He was inquiring about being an Animagus and I don't buy his story of just finding out about his form through meditation..." she trailed off, watching the snake for any sign of recognition but she remained just as neutral as before.

"_Between you and I the planss I tell you?"_

Minerva smirked, the Marauders had nothing on this kid if what she thought about him was true. Not only would Severus have the honor of having the Chantt boy in his house, but she would have a star pupil in Transfiguration.

"Of course, I did in fact tell no one of the Marauders and their plans when I found out, not even the marauders themselves knew, of course I don't know if they pulled it off or not- "

"_There were three Animagi in that group, the Dark Lord knew about it after one told all on the othersss" _Darkscale hissed suddenly.

"Then they did manage it...How soon? And I'm sure Black enjoyed every minute-"

Again the snake interrupted the cat. _" Fourth or Fifth year, Potter a Sstag named Prongsss, Black the Grim named Padfoot and Pettigrew the Rat named Wormtail...The Rat was the ssnitch on the resst, not the Mutt" _

Minerva stood up from her laying position suddenly. "What?" she barked, very un-cat like.

"_It wass the Rat who told on them, he turned to the Dark Lord becausse he feared him and told him where to find the Potterss...They traded in their old Ssecret Keeper, the Mutt, for the Rat becausse the Mutt would be the firsst choice and who would ever think of poor Pettigrew being the Ssecret Keeper? Thiss I know becausse my mother knew it..."_

Minerva frowned and hung her head. " You're sure? So Black went after Pettigrew that night because he knew he was the traitor and no one else knew of the switch...Who was your mother that she would get this kind of information?" Minerva asked, her frown becoming more pronounced.

"_Yesss, he knew and that is why he killed the Rat...My mother wass Nagini...I know not if sshe sstill livess or how I came to be, only that I wass with her for awhile before her masster fell and that iss how I know thingsss about the Dark Lord."_

Now Minerva was worried. Not only was Sirius Black innocent in the murder of the Potters, but the daughter of Nagini was roaming around and in the service of Lord Voldemort's son. It was in a way, humorous to have the offspring of Tom's snake serving Tom's offspring and now the question of how it was possible for Sal to acquire the snake had to be asked.

"How did Mr. Chantt come across you?"

"_I wasss waiting for him of courssse, I had ssspotted and ssspoken to a ssserpent that he releassed from a zoo not too long ago and decided to place mysself ssomewhere sso that he could find me. All Ssspeakerss musst have a ssserpent and I'm the besst there isss to offer."_

She stated smugly making Minerva snicker. "I never thought I would have this much fun talking to a snake and the pet of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's son at that"

"_I am sspecial"_ Darkscale preened. _"And Sssal iss a very ssskilled, already he can take on hisss Boa form and hiss mind doess as well...He hass yet to combine Ssshimmersscale and Sssal together...they are sseparate."_

"That you are as is your master, who is probably worried sick about you right now...I should go and let him know you are fine...and what we have spoken about will remain a secret unless the boy wishes to tell others, though I implore you to send him to me so we can train, I don't want an amateur young Animagus slithering around the castle, especially since he can't remember that he is a wizard in that form.." Minerva started to leave, flicking her tail side to side while she walked.

"_Indeed, that would be...dangerousss, goodbye and sstay well, Grey Ghosst of the Housse of the Lionsss, friend of the Ssserpent King'ss familiar"_

McGonagall stopped walking away and turned to face the snake, before nodding and transforming into her human self. "You too" she said simply, much to Hagrid's confusion as she left with a smile on her lips. Today had been good indeed, she now had a deeper look into the boy that others feared and made a friend of his familiar that she could go to and get information should things become hard with Sal himself.

(The Hospital Wing)

"Now we know not to simply wait for reenforcements, if you are caught alone and are attacked, don't hesitate to fight back" Snape's smooth, yet reprimanding voice washed over Sal as he lay on his back in the bed. His mind was still roaming over the event and Snape wasn't helping because he kept bringing up the subject and asking why Sal didn't fight back and that his reason was foolish.

"Foolish maybe, but at least I'm still alive and in one piece, as are they. If I had dueled them they would either be here with me or under six or more feet of dirt...People would ask questions...Like where I learned most of the spells I have in my arsenal." Sal shrugged, irritated that Snape wouldn't drop it.

"And where, pray tell, did you learn these spells and which ones are you referring to?" He sat down now, looking his charge over, taking in the tall, yet skinny for his age boy.

"Learned em at home in some books and you know which ones...Seen you go off on Erics, that Seventh Year, when he went after Perfect-Percy in the hall yesterday."

"Ah" Snape leaned back in his chair and waited for Poppy to leave the room before he set his eyes on Sal again. He remembered the wounds that were on his back, not many but enough, and the arms and hands which were littered with marks when Poppy had done her examination of him the moment he arrived.

"You know Legilimency and some Occlumency. A strange feat for someone your age, not to mention the charms you have on yourself to cover some of these..." he reached over and pulled one of Sal's burn-scarred hands close to him. "Odd injuries and scars."

Sal thought he wasn't going to ask, just because too much time was passing in silence after the announcement. Snape was still looking the hand over, noticing the broken fingers that were on the mend.

"Where did you-"

"Drop it" he said flatly.

"Excuse me?" Snape's eyebrows shot up and his mouth started to curl on his previously expressionless face.

"I sssaid drop it" Sal snapped, rolling over to face the other way so that Snape was no longer in his view. A sigh sounded and Sal heard the chair groan as Snape obviously got up out of it. Footsteps went around the bed and the Potion's Professor came back into sight, looking both grim and angry. He took a seat in the chair on that side of the bed and tried to get Sal to look at him.

"Look at me" He said softly, totally opposite of the stern look on his face.

"No" Came the muffled reply.

"Why?" A little more demanding now.

"Because you're going to use Legilimency on me...I don't like it when people pry into my business" he didn't look at his Head of House, but could tell that Snape was disappointed in the his decision by the way he sat up straighter.

"It is my business now that I am your Head of House-" he started firmly.

"I don't live with them anymore so it doesn't matter..." He sounded confident which made Snape tilt his head and frown.

"How? Where do you live now?" his voice was softer than normal, almost hopeful, though for what reason Sal didn't know nor did he care.

"With someone else...Squib Uncle. That's all you need to know"

Again Sal rolled over so that Snape was to his back and this time Snape remained on that side, silent and still. He stayed there long after Sal had fallen asleep, for about three hours and even had a few minutes of hushed conversation with Minerva about how the snake was doing.

The two Professors left one after the other, knowing that the boy would be let out when he woke up in a few hours. They would tell him then how Darkscale was doing and Minerva would get a moment to speak with him about Shimmerscale when Severus wasn't around to over hear.


	9. Curiouser and Curiouser

_AN: Danke to all those who are reviewing! _

_JessicaKuran_

_Sunny Book Lover _

_Oceanfur _

_Allanah-x _

_RRW _

_potterprincess06 _

_TLD110166 _

_Sunshine_

_YoruichiKittyCat16 _

"_Emma"_

_Yes even the trolls! Just the fact that you "Read" the title and then "clicked" into the fic to comment means the title did its job by drawing you in; good or bad review is of no concern, you looked anyway. ; )_

_But seeing as I'm in a good mood, I pose a question to all: Why do you think I chose the title that I did for the story? Yes his Animagus form is one reason, can you figure out another? There are at least two other reasons._

_Twenty Points to the house of your choice (story wise and to the reviewer) to the one who guesses right. Now onward to the rest of the story!_

_

* * *

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**Chapter 9. Curiouser and Curiouser...**

Sal leaned back on the bed in his dorm with his feet propped up on a pile of books near the foot of the bed. The room was full of his Inner Circle Grims of all ages and both genders; the only one missing was Hermione, who wasn't in Slytherin. All of them were sitting in various poses in various sections of the room. Some on beds, others on the floor and some even sitting on trunks.

The meeting had been called and all the Grims present were silent, keeping their eyes on their 'master' as he relayed to them what had happened in the hall earlier. That conversation, which had been one way, quickly changed to the current one when Draco asked why he, Sal, was so strange at times, almost Hufflepuff or Gryffindor worthy.

"You know, in order to create the perfect monster, you need the perfect environment to grow him in. Start young and put them in either a smothering environment where they know only love, so they snap under it or when exposed to the opposite they don't know had to act or survive...or like me, put them in a place where love has to be earned and if you're different from the rest, like I am, then earning it is not even possible. Isolation, hate and pain can make even the most innocent and incorruptible turn vile."

He repositioned himself on the bed as he continued, now sitting with one leg bent on the bed while the other hung off it so that he could watch his companions reactions to his speech.

"Those who don't have anyone to care about them, or don't have anything to care about make the best monsters. They aren't afraid of losing anything because they have nothing, and when they do get something, they will fight to keep it, like power. These types of people have suffered much in many ways, often choosing to be loners with a select few as their allies that they call friends...They don't have, want or need true friends. These people are often leaders, forcing others into submission and are expert manipulators, able to sweet talk their way out of trouble and into a deal with ease. They can wheedle information out of someone with little to no effort and most don't leave trails for others to follow. They are ruthless, violent folk who hide under a mask of innocense. They seem calm for the most part and friendly, but can lash out quit viciously and unexpectedly when provoked..."

All the Grims exchanged looks with one another before setting their eyes back on Sal, who wasn't looking at any of them, seeing as he was laying down on his back again with his focus now on the ceiling of his four poster.

"From what I've read and learned of him, my father is a great example of such people, who are sweet, loving kin until they are ready to strike. Then all hell breaks loose. And I'm to follow in his footsteps so it seems."

Draco raised his eyebrows suddenly and tilted his head forward so that he looked like he was eyeing Sal over a pair of invisible glasses. His gray eyes almost laughing at Sal even though his face was blank.

"What? Becoming a paranoid psychopath who takes pleasure in torturing his minions and plans to dwindle the wizarding population down to nothing by removing Mudbloods from the picture as he deems them unworthy even though they are better then Muggles because at least they have magic to pass on?" he said, not taking a breath, which reminded Sal a lot of Hermione, and that was annoying.

Sal raised only his head up so that he could look down at Draco, who was seated at the foot of his bed and gave the blonde a glare that could melt ice. "Possibly"

Draco shook his head and the whole of the gathered grims started to laugh. Some, like Neville and Theo, laughed nervously, while others were laughing hard as if the eleven year old had just told them the joke of the century.

"Seriously, Tom, you really should listen to yourself sometimes. You're not THE Dark Lord, you're better...You have something he doesn't"

Sal frowned and looked to each of his Grims in question. "What?"

Theo snorted "A personality for a start"

"A sense of humor" Marcus chimed in with a smirk.

"A good knowledge of what's going on around you" Added Blaise with a shrug.

"Real friends" Neville said rather quietly which brought all eyes onto him as he continued to look down at his hands in his lap out of embarrassment.

Draco rolled his eyes and leaned forward so that Sal could see just how serious he was.

"You have us, who respect you and will follow you anywhere. We've only known you a few days and already we feel like the whole of Slytherin house has become a family under you. You have those who study the Dark Arts and respect it so you won't be judged."

Theo nodded and poked Blaise in the side to add more on the subject. Blaise sighed and finished the rant that Draco had started.

"And besides, you have the Professors eating out of your hands and Dumbledore protecting you because he thinks your father is going to hunt you down...or something like that, so really, you have everything going for you right now where as he didn't because of the times."

Sal just regarded his 'friends' for a moment in pure silence, looking at each of them in turn with cold teal-ish gray eyes. It was moments like these that he wished he had Darkscale with him, but she was still with Hagrid and wouldn't be well enough to be released for a few days. He was still pretty new at reading those who were like him, not so gullible and quite manipulative, and his serpent's aid was always welcome in an attempt to figure out what was truth and lie with these folk.

"Perhaps you're right Draco" he relented, laying his head down on his pillow again and smirked at the snort that his companion sent him after his response.

"Of course I'm right! I'm a Malfoy!"

"And to address the Muggleborn issue again as I have twice now with a few older years..." he said, cutting short the new rant that he knew the young Malfoy was about to start and sat up so that all of them were below him, giving him the upper hand in the conversation in his mind.

"Where do you think Purebloods come from? They didn't just spring up out of the ground...What is a Muggleborn? Aren't they just first generation Purebloods? Where do all these Pureblood families come from nowadays when none of the names involved on their tree have been going on for more than a few decades. "

The Grims thought on it for a moment in silence. True, wizards didn't just pop into existence, they had to be born and what could birth a wizard? What about those Pureblood families that haven't been going for centuries, where did they get their start? The only answer that would fit were Muggles.

It was a simple statement but it was the one that helped start the revolution against Voldemort and his views. This was just the beginning of a whole war on Muggleborns and what they really represent to the wizarding world that would be waging on throughout the seven years that Sal would be attending Hogwarts. There would be two sides to the war; Sal's and Voldemort's, the question was, who was going to win out in the end? The kid with the fresh idea, or the Dark Lord with years of manipulations and tons of power behind him. Only time would tell.

* * *

"You know, Weasley really should learn to control his emotions...and his friend's mouth or Gryffindork will be out of the race for the cup."

Sal droned from next to Neville and Draco in Herbology the next day. Today they were dealing with a plant called a Hissing Dragonia.. The purpose of this class was to pot them so that they could be kept as house plants and to teach the children on how to handle them without hurting the plant or getting hurt by it.

The things were harmless really. They looked like a miniature version of a Devil's Snare with a strange stalk that stuck up the middle with had a head on it that resembled a Venus Fly Trap with a sticky, dark blue tongue. The stalks and tendrils came in a dazzling array of colors, normally both were the same color with the stalk being a darker shade of a color and the tendrils being lighter. The petals around the 'head' could change colors according to the mood of the plant. True to its name, the plant would hiss loudly when threatened, puffing out the small color changing petals around its 'head' like a cobra to seem bigger.

The Dragonia only ate bugs, frogs and lizards and was about as big as a medium sized Owl. The thicker limbs, four of them, at the base of the creature were used as legs to help drag the plant to new soil or water if need be, though the plant couldn't move very fast nor very far before it needed to take root again. The tendrils were used to 'pick up' and carry the roots, protecting them from being caught on the ground and tearing. While 'rooted', the thorny tendrils were used for defense.

Sal figured it was a cross between a Fanged Geranium and Venomous Tentacula, if that was even possible, but had to agree that somehow it did resemble its namesake; the Dragon. It definitely was bred with some kind of animal, possibly a snake, to get the head shape, the hissing and the attitude, like puffing up and spreading out the 'hood'. Not to mention it just seemed way too sentient not to have some animal blood in it.

The round faced boy nodded in agreement and looked up at his Herbology Professor with a smirk.

"Yeah, but that just means we'll only have to fight Ravenclaw for the top, seeing as Hufflepuff always finishes last."

Sal sniggered and watched the two Gryffindors get thrashed by the normally cheery and bubbly woman.

Professor Sprout wasn't one to be harsh, she was known for her kindness and fairness but at the moment everyone present learned that she could be just as mean as McGonagall or Snape when provoked. Especially when her plants were involved.

.

Empty-Headed-Weasley had squeezed the plant he was handling much too hard just because it pricked him in retaliation for his manhandling. The result was more severe pricking, some intense hissing, and a scolding from Professor Sprout, who added on a removal of points from Gryffindor due to Loose-Lips-Potter's snide remark after the thorny plant lashed out with a powerful slap at Weasley's cheek.

"Professor, you seem to care more about that evil plant than your students! Look at what it is doing to Ron now! And he isn't even hurting it, it's hurting him for no reason! If anyone should loose points it should be Malfoy for holding his upside down like that!"

Potter pointed over to where Draco had his plant by the base and was hanging it upside down so that the plant couldn't reach his face.

That was where the points were removed. Backtalk wouldn't be tolerated in any lesson so it seemed, except where Flitwick was concerned. The small man didn't seem to have a mean bone in his body...yet. It really didn't matter who took points from Gryffindor to the Slytherins because it was just more things to add onto the list of Empty-Headed-Weasley and Loose-Lipped-Potter errors and it felt good to view that extremely long list after a hard day. And only a few days into term as well; who knew how long it would be by the time the year was over, hell, by the time the seven years here were over.

Draco huffed, but didn't put the Hissing Dragonia down; it was keeping him from being hurt and the plant didn't appear to be in any pain so he didn't see anything wrong with it. And nor did Professor Sprout it seemed.

"At least he is holding it by the heavy base, where the stalk is the strongest, instead of dangling it by one of the more delicate tendrils like Mr. Weasley still is. That way the plant cannot deal damage to the handler nor can the handler damage the plant. Not the proper way to do it but still...Please do try to follow directions Mr. Malfoy."

Draco sighed heavily and set his angry plant down on its head with a soft thud. "Yes Professor."

She looked over to where Neville had properly potted his plant, which was waving its tendrils happily and clapped her hands loudly. "See! Like Mr. Longbottom! Oh, ten points to Slytherin for that!." Sprout almost sang as she came around to face the rest of the struggling class.

Draco rolled his eyes for Sal at the same time Sal spoke seeing as the boy was looking at his plant instead of Neville like Draco was.

"Yes, well done Neville" he said, exasperated as another one of the thin limbs of his own plant made a swat for his face and scratched his nose when it missed his cheek.

"Well done plant tamer" Draco laughed. Neville just smiled at the comment while Sal continued to fight his plant. "Stay!" he commanded, pointing at the thorned beast before him.

"It isn't a dog Sal, you can't teach it tricks, well maybe you can." Draco patted his plant as Neville pointed out that plants are like animals and like to be praised and petted. Sal just snarled and finally managed to wrangle his plant into the pot, but the roots didn't want to stay in said pot and the plant crawled out of it.

"You're being ridiculous! Just stay put and it'll all be over with soon." Yet another swat toward the young Slytherin's face. This time Sal ducked and twirled, causing the plant to smack Neville into Draco instead, who started to laugh hysterically at Sal's Avoid-The-Sting-Of-The-Plant ballet he was preforming.

"Oh shut up Drax" Sal snapped cooly.

Draco silenced his laughter, turning it to girlish giggles that made most of the first years there start to smirk like Slytherins, and in the case of the Slytherins, to smirk like true Slytherins should.

By the time the class was over, only Neville and Hermione had earned any points for their houses, while the rest of the houses had managed to at least get the plants sort of into the pots. Sal's plant didn't want to cooperate with him at all, choosing to crawl out of the pot and sit on the cold table each time the young man would take his hands off of it to add the soil.

It was no use, the Dragonia just didn't want to do as told and Professor Sprout wound up keeping it there for him to try and pot at a later date. Neville, Hermione, Draco and Theo all had their plants with them, though only Neville's and Hermione's were in the pots properly. Draco's and Theo's hung out of theirs at times and chose to throw most of the soil out as the children walked up to the castle. Weasley and Potter left theirs behind for reasons unknown to Sal, though the constant biting may have been a factor in the plant's abandonment.

The rest of the afternoon was split between chasing down missing toads, repotting escaped Dragonias and finishing near complete homework.

* * *

Sal sat across from Neville at the Slytherin table before dinner. No one else was sitting there at their house table, but a few from other houses were seated at their respective tables, watching the Professors file in and start conversation. Empty-Headed-Weasley entered the hall with a chess set in hand and set it up for a match between him and Loose-Lipped-Potter. The two spent only fifteen minutes in the first game before Potter soundly lost to Weasley, who preformed an expert kill move with his knight.

This brought Sal's attention to the boy entirely instead of just 'watching' him. He was a tactician for sure and shouldn't be in Gryffindor with the way he could put his mind on that game. Much too cunning and moody for that house, but the kid was rash and couldn't keep his head on straight in other situations, so perhaps growing up in a house full of Gryffindors who fill your head with nonsense can dampen one's Slytherin side enough to get them landed in the wrong house.

When Sal addressed this to his fellow Snakes, they all agreed that playing a game of chess with Weasley when money was being bet was ill advised. Four more games later and it was time for the board to be put away as the rest of the houses entered for Dinner. The Staff took turns walking down their tables, praising their students for a job well done with their homework, and in Snape's case, praising his snakes for helping Gryffindor loose more points throughout the day.

Dinner passed without much more than a few reprimands from Professor McGonagall at the Gryffindor table when the twins set off a dungbomb under Perfect-Percy. The action had all of Slytherin in an uproar as the 'Brave Lions' scattered to get away from the smell. Even Snape was smirking behind his goblet of wine.

Sal liked all of his Professors so far, except for Quirrell. Even though he hadn't had a class with him yet, the man creeped him out by staring at him all the time. At dinner was the worse time because it lasted the longest. Quirrell would eat a bite, then look at Sal. Eat another bite, then stare at Sal for way too long. He even stopped him in the halls to ask how he was settling in and other personal questions.

Like who he lived with, where they lived, how the family was, what kind of pets he had, what he liked doing and what hobbies he had. It was just weird and Sal started to worry about his Professor's behavior. Sometimes he looked like he was having an argument in his head while speaking to Sal, like someone was telling him what to ask and how to word it because he would change tactics suddenly if Sal started to veer from the subject.

Quirrell was doing it now, carefully watching Sal and his group as they conversed about the stuttering Professor.

"Is he any good?" Sal looked to Marcus, who was poking at a sweet potato violently.

"Well that's debatable. He seems to know his stuff, but stutters so much that it takes forever to get a point across, not to mention he is scared of his own shadow." The Sixth Year said quietly so that the spying Quirrell wouldn't overhear.

"Well I hope he can teach us something, or else I may have to ask Professor Flitwick to do it. I hear he was Dueling Champ, so he must know something about Defense." Sal stuffed some chicken into his mouth while a roaming Prefect leaned over to hiss in his ear.

"Professor Snape could beat him, so your best bet would be to talk to Snape if Quirrell isn't working for you."

Sal rubbed his ear free of the spit that the Prefect had sprayed there in his anger. Clearly he wasn't too fond of the idea of Slytherins going to the Ravenclaw Head of House to learn defense. The first year shrugged as the male Prefect strutted away to sit near his year mates and Flint leaned over again with a chuckle.

"Who ever you feel you want to ask, ask them...Yeah Snape is wicked with Defense, but he isn't Dueling Champion as far as I know."

Draco shook his head as Sal yawned in the Staff table's direction, hoping to make Quirrell think he was yawning at him. No such luck. The man just stared back with an odd glimmer in his eyes, one Sal had seen before a long time ago, but where?

He shrugged off the feeling and finished his dinner. When Slytherin house started to leave the Hall for the dorms, Sal noticed Hagrid when he passed him on his way out of the Great Hall. One thing kept running through the young snake's mind as the half-giant headed for the doors to the grounds; how was Darkscale doing out there? His mind made up, Sal ran to catch up with Hagrid.

"Hey Hagrid! I wanted to thank you for taking care of Darkscale for me...How is she doing?"

He came up level with Hagrid as the man exited the castle, having to trot in order to keep up with his mighty strides.

"Oh, tha', tha' was nothin'. She was a right bit displeased with bein' handled by someone else but she settled down soon enough." It seemed to Sal that Hagrid was very uncomfortable with the conversation and kept sending the small boy looks of suspicion as they walked.

"When do you think she'll be well enough to come home?"

"Don' know, she seems fine, yet I don' want her to pull those stitches out before she's healed up. Would make a right mess out o' her I figure if she was slitherin' around an' got caught on somethin'. Not fer awhile yet,"

Sal looked down at his feet, defeated. "Oh"

Hagrid frowned a little and his lips twitched. "Though I think if she is careful maybe yeh can have her back tomorrow."

"Really?" Sal's head jerked up quickly, but his face wasn't displaying the joy that was in his voice.

"Mm, well yeh better get back to the castle seein' as it's past curfew an' old Snape will have yer head fer losin' Slytherin points over a pet snake...Riddle's son or no." The last part was grumbled out and Sal reached over to tug on Hagrid's jacket.

"Whatever my father did, I'm sorry. I'm not like him, he left me behind for power, how else did I wind up with a cruel guardian?"

Hagrid stopped walking and looked straight down at Sal.

"What yer father did to me is none o' yer business an' yer apology isn' accepted 'cause it ain't yer place to apologize fer him. Now up to the castle with yeh" he then turned quickly and headed off toward his hut without a backward glance.

He had still sounded angry and Sal was confused. What had Tom Riddle done to him? Shrugging, the boy headed off toward the castle once more, slightly surprised to see a smirking Professor Snape standing at the door waiting for him.

"Fixing a wrong Mr. Chantt?" he sneered, eyeing the young man before him.

"No Sir, I didn't do anything to him. Just wanted to know how Darkscale was doing is all" he said innocently though he could tell by the way Snape jerked his head toward the inside of the castle that he wasn't convinced.

"I expect Potter and his lackeys to break the rules, not my Snakes...Dorms now, before I have to take points."

Sal sped off down the hall and swore he heard Snape snigger at his retreating form, or maybe it was Peeves-The-Irritating? He was almost at the common room entrance when he caught up with the female Prefect of Slytherin, who had been waiting for the First year and escorted him back into the common room and then he was sent off to bed.


	10. Identity Crisis

**Chapter Ten: Identity Crisis.**

The weeks went by swiftly for the students, Professors, and ghosts of Hogwarts and all too soon September had given way to the first of the month of October. Morning dawned silently in the Slytherin dorms seeing as each of it's members were still fast asleep and quite unaware of the time, save for two human members and one serpent of the First Year dorms. Salazar Chantt was laying flat on his back, fully dressed in his school uniform, legs spread out across the bed as if he had landed after a failed jump and hands clasped firmly together on his stomach. He was staring at the canopy of his bed with a rather irritated expression on his pale face which only added to the unusual darkness of his eyes this morning. Darkscale was coiled near his head on the pillow, throwing a hissy fit over her master's choice of words in the current conversation.

Neville was sitting at the edge of Sal's bed near the foot and was eyeing the hissing pair with slightly narrowed eyes; it seemed that he was concentrating on what was being said. Draco had told the boy two weeks ago that if he listened hard enough to Sal, he would be able to understand what he was saying to his snake. Of course everyone knew he was just pulling Neville's leg, but it was funny to watch the pudgy boy turn red in the face from straining so hard.

"_You know better than that Sssalazar!"_ she snapped, rearing up so that her head was now quite in view of his wandering eyes. It was slightly aggravating the situation, she knew that, but right now Darkscale could care less; he needed to be taught a lesson. Neville backed away from them both, now shifting his gaze to Darkscale completely because the snake looked agitated.

"_Do I? It's not like I have a fellow Parsselmouth to asssk...And I AM the lasst of Ssslytherin's line-" _he started, pushing the medium sized head of his pet away from his nose so that he could sit up. He then shot his now frightened dorm mate an apologetic look. Really, sometimes he regretted keeping the scaly beast, a dragon would be easier to handle!Maybe he should have picked a rat?

"_Ssso you believe it isss up to you to decide thesssse thingss then? You are ssstill a hatchling! You know nothing of your family's hissstory or how thingsss were done! And you are changing Ssalazar Ssslytherin's viewss around to work in your favor, you're no better than HIM! With thiss idea of yourss, you will desstroy everything that Ssslytherin built, a true heir you are not!"_

And those, perhaps, were not the right choice of words on her part to get the boy to understand the fault in his plans.

Sal shot up out of bed, landing with a soft thud as he whirled around to fix Darkscale with a glare so intense, she recoiled violently. This sent Neville scurrying in terror toward his own bed, stumbling and muttering as he went. He didn't once turn around to face Sal until he was securely in the center of his bed with his wand in hand, looking like he was going to fight a duel in his perfect wide step stance. But he couldn't see Sal or Darkscale because the curtains were now closed all the way, probably his own doing on his way out, though he couldn't remember grabbing anything let alone tugging the curtains closed.

Sal's face was screwed up in a look of pure fury as he stood, rooted to the floor beside his bed, still well under the drapes that hid his world from the rest of the dorm, hissing furiously at his pet in anger. But his words were lost to her, none of them made any sense at all as he spouted off random sounds and pointed at her with one scarred finger, making her whole being suddenly burst into pain. The more he hissed at her, the more his eyes seemed to take on a crazed gleam, like he knew what he wanted to happen to her and how to go about it. It was at that time the thought occurred to the serpent, maybe he was speaking a spell? She was never really good at recognizing spells or even understanding the words they were written in called Latin.

The last thing she remembered before she passed out was the satisfied smirk her master directed at her just as he disappeared out from under the curtains and the look of horror sent her way from the boy across the room called Neville, who was still posed in the middle of his own bed, wand in hand.

At the Slytherin table, almost two hours after what Neville called 'The Hissy fit of Doom', all the First Year Slytherins who were Grims sat in awed silence. Neville relayed the whole event, even his failure to hear what Sal and Darkscale were saying, which brought both Theo and Draco into hysterics and earned a 'you _are_ stupid' glare from Pansy. Apparently, Sal lost his temper and punished his snake in a way that proved to be humiliating and enlightening for all parties involved. She was still being 'punished', stuffed in Sal's breast pocket, even as they enjoyed the last scraps of food before their lessons began.

Shortly after breakfast had cleared itself away, Neville got to his feet at the same time as Sal and leaned around the front of his friend, trying to gain yet another look at the not-so-lucky-serpent; his fellow year mates followed his lead because they hadn't seen it yet.

The lot of them had History of Magic this morning first and it was best to arrive early to catch up on some reading of History before the horrid Ghost started droning on or else you won't learn anything for the duration of the class except how to properly sleep on the pile of books from your bag now sitting on your desk.

Only two seventh years and a third year still remained seated close by at the table after having received their extra assignments from various Professors; the reason they weren't running off to class was painfully obvious to any who stopped to watch them try and stuff their normal sized books and other supplies into oddly shrunk packs. The Weasley twins were to blame for this latest prank on the upper year Slytherins, Draco was sure, but no one had caught them at it so no points could be taken.

All the First Years had their bags currently slung over a shoulder or protectively in hand as they walked to the History of Magic classroom, discussing how October's lessons would fair compared to September's in all subjects. So far Transfiguration, Charms, Potions and Herbology were Sal's favorites and DADA, Astronomy and History of Magic were his least favorite. DADA wouldn't be so bad if Sal didn't start feeling like someone had let a Horse run over him every time he shared the same space as the odd Professor.

It would start off as a mild headache when Quirrell entered and faced Sal and then explode into full body prickles when he faced away from the young Slytherin. By the time the class would end, Salazar would be so sore that Draco would have to walk behind him for hours after that in case he fell. It was unnerving, and even Draco complained about the strange symptoms his friend had after class, but the powerful Garlic smell was the main reason he fussed when speaking of DADA; it was too much for his delicate nose.

A slight smirk crossed Sal's face as he took a front seat in the History of Magic classroom. He could still remember his first DADA lesson like it was only yesterday. About ten minutes into the Class, while Sal himself was suffering the 'invisible needles', Potter passed out, slipping out of his seat and hitting the desk with his head before landing hard on the floor. This caused Theo and Draco to both bite their lower lips in an effort not to laugh while Sal wasn't able to suppress his outburst and got points docked for snorting too loudly at the display.

Quirrell almost looked like he was in pain for a moment after docking the points but the man quickly recovered, however, and sent Empty-Headed-Weasley off to the Hospital Wing with a semi-conscious Potter in tow. Now that Sal looked back on it, he found the whole affair more than slightly disturbing. A frown now appeared as he brought up two very important yet nagging questions that he had been pondering over for weeks. Why did he feel so bad whenever Quirrell was around, but only when the Professor had his back to him? And why did Potter pass out like that? He too looked like he was in pain.

None of it made any sense. And he had been forced to actually seek out and ask Dumbledore about Potter's strange illness when the questions became too much to handle on his own. He conveniently left out the fact that he too wanted to pass out in Quirrell's class; he just didn't trust the old man at all with that kind of revelation. The meeting was fruitless as far as Potter was concerned, but Sal did get some more information about his father and mother out of the old coot. Dumbledore seemed inclined to share only the good things he noticed about Tom Riddle, however few they were, and actually explained that in a way, Voldemort killed Tom Riddle.

That little line was reminiscent of the whole Darth Vader killed your father thing that Obi-Wan pulled in the Star Wars films that Sal had snuck a peek at more than a few times in the past; he almost laughed at the old man, whom he knew had no idea just how funny that was to hear coming from him. After gaining that little information about Tom, Sal felt he needed to know his mother better and pushed for whatever he could gather from the Headmaster. This turned into multiple meetings spread out over the weeks of term and soon proved to Sal that Dumbledore was not the man he thought he was. He knew much about both his parents, little about them together, and nothing about Sal himself, which meant that he wasn't as 'all seeing' as others warned. This was excellent news to the young man's ears, for now he felt confident that his plans could be hidden right under Dumbledore's nose and the man would be none the wiser...If Sal and company were careful that is.

Sal quickly shook himself out of his musings as Binns entered the room through the chalkboard as usual, making many of the First Years present groan in defeat; looks like they won't get that chance to read up on the class after all.

"So, let me see what happened to Darkscale, I still don't believe Neville.." Draco drawled from Sal's left, which was unusual as the boy normally sat on his right, and Theo on the left. Lately they had been swapping off, which caused some confusion among the ranks that Sal had to deal with in private.

"Later, and why don't you believe Neville? Not like he would lie about something like that, especially not when I'm sitting next to him." Sal smirked, looking over his shoulder at Neville, who was grinning from one ear to the other. "Fine" the blonde huffed, pulling his book up to his face so that he could attempt to learn something today.

From inside Sal's breast pocket came a soft squeak, so soft that it went unheard by all except Sal and Draco. The latter shot his companion's pocket an amused look and took to sniggering under his breath at the smirk that still graced Sal's features. "Told you so" came the only oral reply to the event from any who could hear the sound and Draco whirled around to give Neville a good lashing, only holding back at the look he was given from Theo and Sal.

After History of Magic, most of the Grims headed out to their favorite studying spots to finish up some homework before the Astronomy class they would have that night. Sal, Theo, Neville and Draco, however, all crowded around a small table in the empty classroom near the broom closet, all of them, save for Sal, were clutching their sides as they laughed at the poor snake...er...not so snake. There in the center of the table, was a small, black mouse. Her ears were perfectly rounded and her eyes were perfectly beady. Her body was covered in fine fur, which also littered her tail and nose, while her naked feet slid on the slick surface of the table.

"Well, I lost my temper and decided to show her what I thought of all that annoying hissing." Sal said proudly, studying the tiny creature with a bored expression.

It was obvious that the mouse was not used to walking, but rather slithering, which didn't work if you had legs to drag and a spine that wasn't meant for slithering. She kept trying to walk on her shaky feet, giving up every so often and tucking her legs against her body to try and wiggle across the table. But she wound up doing nothing more than merely mop the top of the table in the one spot she was sitting in or managed to slid to while looking like an idiot. The boys would roar with laughter every time the tiny mouse would wiggle, which in turn would make the mouse's ears and head droop in shame; she would learn her lesson this time and remember that Sal was the wizard and she was the 'pet'. Darkscale only hoped that her master would soon loose interest in this game and would change her back, seeing as she had spent the whole day as a mouse now.

Sure enough, after twenty minutes of howling at and poking at the mouse, Sal pried the mouse from the hands of Draco and picked her up by the tail, fixing those black, beady eyes with his blue-ish silver ones. Over the months he had been losing the charm on him, though he only vaguely remember what he looked like before, Sal's eyes had gone from green to teal, from teal to teal-ish silver, and now from teal-ish silver to a startling blue-silver color. Each shade was darker than the first, leaving him with deep blue eyes that seemed to turn silver the closer it got to his pupils, which would only turn slitted when he was very angry. His hair was now a short, dark brown and would lay flat on his head if he didn't run his hands through it. And his face was even more angled than before, making him a literal copy of Tom Riddle, save for the eyes. This made the mouse shiver as she gazed upon him, remembering the memories her mother shared with her of the young Tom.

"Are you sorry?" he said simply, his face a blank canvas. The mouse curled up on herself and nodded ever so slightly.

This brought a face splitting smile into existence and Sal dropped the mouse back onto the table top, pointing his wand at her and spewing out more of that unrecognizable speech. Darkscale felt pain in her body as it stretched one way, than another. Her empty black fur vanished and gave way to patterned scales, and her rodent teeth changed back into the fangs and small teeth she had as a snake. Now feeling that her body was back to its old shape, even though the pain wasn't completely gone, Darkscale slithered up to her young master and dipped her head as she came to rest on his shoulders.

"_I am sssorry little one." _

"_I know"_ was her only reply from her master, who was now being spied on by a very worried looking Charms Professor.

Flitwick blinked a few times and watched as young Harrison Riddle, now only known as Salazar Riddle, preformed a very complex animal transfiguration spell on his mouse, turning it into a snake. It wasn't until he really looked at the beast that he noticed it was Darkscale. So the boy had turned her into a mouse to punish her? So like his father this one and poor Flitwick had hoped the boy wasn't like him. Harry Potter was like his father in some ways and now it was obvious that Salazar was too, but at least both boys still had enough of their mothers in them to keep their father's chaotic ways in check...for now.

The one thing that the Professors seemed to stressed the most, in either a good or bad way, was how much like their fathers the boys looked. The humor in the whole situation was now James Potter and Tom Riddle were going to school at the same time, and neither seemed to like the other at all, which made it even more humorous; perhaps they remembered who they were and that it was Tom who killed James? At least that was how most of the Professors acted, like they _were_ James Potter and Tom Riddle, not their children. Potter didn't seem too upset about being compared to his father when it wasn't Snape doing it, but Sal _hated_ being compared to his _sire_, no matter who was doing the comparing.

Mcgonagall sometimes slipped up and called him Tom whenever she was having a difficult time with the boy or seemed to be lost in thought. Though he didn't mind being called Tom, he just didn't like it when it was because they were addressing him as his father, not because his middle name was Tomas.

A soft cough from behind the tiny, lost-in-thought Professor made him jump straight up into the air and grab at his chest when he finally noticed who it was. "Oh...Dear me, I'm sorry I didn't...see you there Mr. Riddle!" he squeaked, reminding Sal of his serpentine mouse only moments ago. That thought sent a smile creeping up onto Sal's face before he could stop it.

"Quite alright Professor, I didn't see you there either...Good evening." he stated smoothly, motioning for his companions to follow him out into the halls. They each passed the still panting from fright Professor and gave him a curt nod as they left, all heading back to the dorms for a quick game or nice read before class that night. But Sal wasn't heading back to the dorms with his friends, he had noticed three shapes heading off toward the stairs while they were leaving the Charms Professor in their wake and knew it had to be Potter, Weasley and Hermione. He needed to speak with the latter about some disturbing things he had learned about his bloodline on both sides of his family and it couldn't wait. So, as they headed back toward the dungeons, Sal let Draco bring the others into a long conversation about one thing or another while he slipped away from them to head back toward Gryffindor tower, where he knew Potter and his friends were heading.

"_Go back to the dormsss with them, I'll catch up later"_ he hissed to Darkscale, who gave him a suspicious glare, but didn't argue for fear of being turned back into a helpless mouse again. She dropped off his shoulders and slithered quickly to catch up with her master's followers, while Sal turned around and took off at a dead run, hoping to get to Hermione before she got to the common room

_AN: BEWARE! LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE!_

_Sorry for the wait guys! Work has been busy and I've just recently acquired a new animal from the Humane Society so I've been settling him into his new home and getting him used to the other animals here._

_Thanks for the reviews and no I'm not going to rewrite this story, I like this version and I know that sometimes it seems rushed or is too slow, but I'm new to Fanfics in a way, having not really been writing them much; they're not like Rps, as you have more than one person helping you write those! Although this chapter was more a filler with some important things in it, I still thought it was stuffed enough for a posting all by itself, meaning I didn't have to cram Chapter 11 into it in order to make it a good Chapter 10. Forgive me if I'm wrong._

_The personalities of the kids in this story are going to vary from time to time, just like any normal child's personality would. Sometimes they are happy with how things are going and are quite bubbly, trusting and what not. While other times they turn downright nasty...I know, I have three younger siblings and tons of cousins who tend to throw a hissy even though they are now nearing, or in some cases are in, their 20's._

_The adults will tend to lean toward keeping Sal happy just because he looks like Tom Riddle, acts like Tom to a degree and has a powerful aura like Tom. Only a few of them know he IS the son of Tom Riddle. Others __**assume**__ he is or is a grandson somehow and that is why they will seem too friendly with him; it is out of fear that this is so._

_In the case of Minerva, she wants to believe that she can change this kid, feeling that if someone had been there for Tom that he wouldn't have gone the way he did. Perhaps this is true, perhaps he was just destined to be evil, either way, she thinks that if the boy is kept out of the dark and has someone to turn to he won't follow his father. But don't expect her to always be this friendly, yes she will still be there for him but I do plan to make her get back into the 'not liking Slytherins all too much and as such not trusting __**everything**__ they say' attitude, just because she gets comfortable with how things are going and doesn't want to seem too 'soft' on that house of aspiring dark folk._

_As more time passes, they will __**all**__ fall into a more cannon routine, even Snape and will quickly learn that Sal isn't Voldemort and won't kill them all while they sleep. At this point things will be a little more normal for them all, but for now it will not change._

_No Tom Riddle will not be a softy. He will not want his kid the way a true father would, Sal will be just an object to him, a way to continue the blood; a pawn much how Harry Potter is for Dumbledore. Just thought I'd get that straight, quite a few people off of FF had asked if Voldemort will change into this strange and unrecognizable version that some have used in their fics. While that may work for them, it will not work for me. I believe that even if Tom had someone in his life who cared about him and if he did in fact have any kids, they would all just be trophies to him or treasured items like Nagini._

_Yes I know that Wormtail isn't outed until the third book and that Sirius doesn't escape until then either. This will be true for this fic as well, except that Minerva will know that Sirius is innocent of the Potter's murder at least, but not of the Muggle's and Wormtail's. Because of this, she won't bring it up at all that Wormtail was the traitor because it wouldn't do any good, Sirius killed the Muggles and Wormtail and for that he should be in prison; no matter what else he is actually rotting in there for. _

_Sick I know, but if you think about it, he used the Killing curse (they think) and he is in prison for it, it doesn't matter what other charges are on him; in the wizarding world, that makes you evil plain and simple._

_Hermione is only being accepted by most of the Slytherins, save for Sal and Neville, because they want to use her for her talents, no matter what her blood is. Most of the Grims are starting to lean toward Sal's ideals about Muggleborns, but old habits die hard they say, it will take time. Yes she is part of the Golden Trio, I don't plan to break that up. It is important, even if Harry and Ron don't like that she is friends with one of the Slimy Snakes, they won't give up her friendship because of it. The Trio is still going to be doing most of the cannon stuff, seeing as Sal won't want to get involved in much hero work, mainly because he doesn't have Dumbledore pushing him to do it. Remember, he doesn't know HE is the chosen one so why should he?_

_I know the story is confusing in some areas but that is the purpose of it! You see, in most books, the reader gets hold of some kind of information which gives away some part of the plot early, so they know what is going on, while the characters are still blissfully oblivious. In many cases, this may frustrate the reader because they think the characters are stupid for not figuring out what is happening by now because the reader learned it all four chapters ago_.

_My way I hope keeps the reader in the dark as much as the characters are so that when a character finds something, the reader feels they are with them on the find instead of just viewing it as an "I knew that already you dolt"._

_Keep those reviews comin' an' I'll keep the chapters updated fer yeh!_ _Got questions? Ask away!_


	11. Riddle me this

**Chapter Eleven: Riddle me this...**

'_What is that smell? Familiar human smell...'_

The sounds of scales scraping on stone echoed through the otherwise silent halls of the Hogwarts dungeons. The occupants of the many portraits that lined the walls occasionally lifted their heads and squinted into the darkness around them to see what had roused them from their slumber, only to see that nothing was out of sorts and so with gentle shrugs they promptly fell back into sleep. The sounds continued down the halls, trailing into the depths of the school, slowly fading into mere rustling and then silence as it moved onto a rug. With the soft glow of the fires that were posted on the walls every few feet bathing the stones and rugs below in an orange hue, the shape of a very large serpent could just be made out as it slithered across the ground. It paused in its travels as a thought not of its own flashed into existence.

'_What is that smell? Who does it belong to...Find the source!'_

The serpent flinched slightly, as if it had actually heard the thought as a shout and turned to face what it figured was the direction the scent was coming from. It reared up to look down the well lit corridor for a moment, before lowering its head again and setting off in search of the smell.

'_Must find the smell'_

As the large snake moved into the lighted corridor, the lights bounced off of its sleek, scaly skin. Patterns found mostly on Pythons were clearly visible now as it shot over the stones in a hurry to find nearby shadows, though they were faint patterns, almost lost on the green skin that looked much too pale for a creature that spends most of its time sunning. Its eyes were also pale, not the bright amber they should be and the tongue seemed white instead of deep pink as it flicked in and out of a very dry mouth.

'_The scent is close now...' _

It came around a corner in the hall that revealed an open entrance hall which was also lined with torches, and suits of armor could be seen twitching every so often. In the distance, two figures were standing in front of the main doors, one was massive like a bear standing on its hind legs, the other was slim and tall, yet not near as tall as the bear like figure. The tall one was older, and smelled of pure power, while the bear didn't seem as old, nor as powerful. Both were deep in conversation, with the bear waving his arms around animatedly, and the older one just standing there, quite calm and collected.

'_Ignore them, find the source of THAT scent!'_

The snake looked away from the now very animated duo near the entrance to the school and started to follow a faint trail that lead up the ever changing staircases. The portraits here were also sleeping and the snake kept shooting them glances here and there as if fearing the possibility of being spotted by them. But none looked that far down if the did wake up. They obviously were expecting a student, not an animal to be roaming the school at this time and so kept their eyes at what would be head level. The snake whipped around another corner with a soft hiss, startling a dust colored cat with yellow, lamp like eyes. She hissed in response to the snake appearing in her hallway without permission and quickly took off in the opposite direction, yowling an alarm of sorts as she ran. Without missing a beat, the serpent continued its trek down the hall, only faster now that the cat was aware of it being where it shouldn't. No sooner had it come out onto another staircase, when a student, an upper year Gryffindor, came bolting down the same staircase, his hands were up over his head as he hissed out curses in English that the serpent couldn't understand. Behind him, the snake could see Peeves gliding effortlessly down the banister, giggling loudly as he pelted the poor red headed boy with chalk and other tid bits from the various classrooms around the school.

"Weeeee! You can dodge, you can scream, but you'll never escape Peevesie and the Cream." he cackled, dumping what appeared to be a large bowl of cream on the boy. He then disappeared through a wall just in time to miss the fireworks display that the boy caused with a spell that had been thrown at him. "PEEVES! I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS! YOU'VE HEARD WHAT THE HEADMASTER SAID ABOUT PREFECTS BEING OFF LIMITS!" The boy bellowed, so wrapped up with his yelling that he didn't see the snake slither past him up the stairs and into a shadowed section of the Gryffindor platform. The Fat-Lady's portrait was huffing in irritation at the level of noise now going on just beyond her sight.

'_Ah, the Weasley then..'_

Another one of those thoughts that didn't belong to the snake, it appeared to be a delayed thought about the Prefect the snake had just left down there covered in cream.

'_No matter, now, find the source...It isn't here...'_ It seemed to scold, almost reading the snake's mind when it couldn't pick up the smell any stronger here than it had been on the staircase behind it. Again, hoping not to get caught, the snake turned around and took off back down the stairs.

Hours seemed to pass as it chased this strange smell, twice it thought it had the person cornered, but twice it seemed to fail and almost got caught by the cat and her owner, who were now looking for anything out of the ordinary. Though the snake did find something interesting about whoever it was it was tracking; they must either be in Slytherin and have a friend or family member in Gryffindor, or the other way around, because although the smell did appear to enter the Gryffindor Common room, the smell was also at the Slytherin Common room entrance and possibly within.

But the source of the smell was no longer the most important thing for the snake to find. No, now the invading thoughts were ordering it to find out more about something it heard in the halls while on the hunt for the strange smell. Now the thoughts were repeating over and over every few moments as if it was trying to remember where it heard the word before, or what the word stood for.

'_What is a Grim?'_

Again the snake sighed in frustration for what would be the sixth time in the last hour. It was not, however, with the same line of thought as every other time, this time the snake burst into excruciating pain.

'_This is important Nagini! Focus!'_

The snake shrunk back with an irritated _'Fine!'_, regaining control of itself for the time being and stopping near a door where hushed voices were emitting from.

'_Wait...what is that? There! Conversation it seems...listen!'_ Came the biting reply before blissful silence took over. Nagini, as the snake was named snuck up to the door and placed her nose to the bottom and flicked her tongue out a few times to try and identify the owners of the voices.

"That was strange though, he just let Flitwick call him Riddle instead of correcting him...Sal doesn't let slip ups like that go uncorrected, something is up. At first he was amused, and would say something about it, now..."

A high pitched, frightened voice floated under the door, followed closely by a rather sharp drawl.

"Yes, yes, and when is Sal not strange? Half the Professors are messing up and calling him Riddle these days, even the Headmaster has slipped, but at least he apologized right afterward ."

There was a pause as the two people within shifted around the room, then the drawling voice continued. "If they don't call him Tom, they call him Harrison or Salazar Riddle...It's funny if you think about it."

"Well I don't think it's funny. And neither does he I figure, I mean, have you seen the way he stiffens up when they say the name Riddle? It's like he's about to explode"

Silence fell on the room again as the two boys, as Nagini has figured they are, pondered on each other's words. Then the drawl answered.

"Well maybe we should ask him when he's in a better mood. For the time being, however.." he trailed off and the sounds of a chair scraping the floor alerted Nagini to the fact that they may be leaving soon.

"We should gather the Grims up and get them on tailing Potter, that git is up to no good and Sal wants to know more about him. I hate to say it, but we may have to use Runs-With-Snakes to do it, she IS in Gryffindor and they are close to her from the looks of it. And Sal did speak with her earlier today."

"I know Draco, but really, Sal is getting a bit demanding lately...He's even fussing me out about messing up in Potions, I can't help that I'm scared of Snape, he's always glaring at everyone and when he hovers near me I get nervous and things go wrong"

There was a bark of laughter, much like one that Nagini remembered from somewhere else once before. Then Draco spoke in between the laughter.

"Scared of Snape? Well yes, I do understand the whole hovering thing, but really, Neville, you're in his house, he isn't going to kill you. Now the Gryffindorks, that's a different story. I can't wait for him to boil Potter down, Snape's getting real close to doing it I think. Besides, Sal wants you to be good in Potions, is that so bad?"

"No" came the weak reply.

"Good, so, that having been said...Let us be on our way then"

Nagini pulled away from the door as the voices got louder and hid under a suit of armor. The door flew open to reveal what was obviously the Malfoy heir, all proud and smirking, and a mousy looking boy who was trying hard not to appear panicky. Both were wearing Slytherin robes and didn't seem to care that it was way past time for First Years to be in bed, though that perhaps might have been why the Neville boy was going into a panic attack. They took their time in heading back to the Common room, finally Draco pushed Neville into a wall and give him a good tongue lashing about something, then let him go and proceeded to drag him the rest of the way back to the Common room.

Now the snake was laying in pure silence, not even her breath made a sound in the still halls. Memories were swirling in her head as she tried to piece all the night's events together. Suddenly, she was jerked out of her peaceful moment by the invading thoughts once again.

'_Doesn't like being called Riddle? The Grims are an organization? Well now, seems young Salazar is following the family tradition.'_

There was a soft chuckle at the end of that statement, and Nagini felt as if the old person she used to know had finally returned. She relaxed a bit and let his next few words wash over her like a soothing rain.

'_Oh well, guess I had better find a reason for that idiot to speak with young Chantt that won't get the old fool's knickers in a twist. Nagini, you have pleased me this night...You may rest now...' _

Nagini didn't respond. She didn't have to, her job was finished for the moment and so she glided out of the halls and into the shadows of some unused classroom, awaiting her master's call once more.

Meanwhile, in the DADA Professor's quarters, a strange line of thoughts were assaulting the mind of one each Tom Riddle as he thought about how his heir had been acting lately, changing too much in such a short time frame for the Dark Lord's liking. It was, in a way, quite disturbing how much like him young Salazar seemed to be, right down to his unique habits that he had gained in the orphanage. He knew this child had never been in such a place, Salazar had said so himself, but it still appeared that the boy was 'tapping into' his father's personality too much, and that had to be addressed as well. The child didn't know his father nor had any real contact with anyone who knew his father, that Voldemort knew of, so he shouldn't be acting this way.

And so right at this moment The Dark Lord was wondering if the boy wasn't really his son, but somehow, one of his Horcrux that managed to gain a solid body and was 'learning' itself again. That thought didn't sound as appealing as having an heir that he could control; one of him was enough thank you, he really didn't feel like sharing with his 'twin'.

Having gotten on that train, he now started to run through all the Horcrux he knew to be intact and the ones he didn't know the conditions of hoping that his son had just managed to pull out a strange gene in the Slytherin line that allowed him to gain inherited traits of all sorts like snakes. It was with this happy thought that Voldemort finally drifted to sleep, not realizing that he hadn't been keeping his thoughts to himself and his host was not as asleep as he appeared.

_AN:_

_Short little chapter before things really get moving...This gives you a look at some of the things going on in the halls at night when no one is suppose to be up...and from a different point of view. I hope it answers some questions about Sal and the whole Riddle ordeal from the last chapter, plus it pulls Nagini into the picture. I mean, really, all those times that Harry heard something in the halls at night when he was roaming yet never saw what it was couldn't always be Mrs Norris. Seeing as she would have made some kind of noise to alert Filch. _

_Yes I'm aware that Nagini wasn't made a Horcrux until_ _summer of forth year, but I figure that if he had her before then, he would make her one as fast as possible. Plus, I find the idea that Tom went all that time without a serpent familiar a bit unbelievable, seeing as he prided himself in being the Heir of Slytherin, so I made it sooner._

_Yes Peeves made an appearance and will continue to do so quite often, as Sal will see his usefulness for distractions and of course, gossip. Sorry it took so long, but I've been writing the chapters out in pairs and then posting them when they are done so that it is two chapters to an update instead of one. I've also had internet problems, family problems and of course a small vacation with said family at the start of Nov that lasted till near Thanksgiving and I had no internet at this time while I was traveling. _

_Then came the new year and new ideas, work and 'toys' to be used at work, came along, so I've been busy with those._

_Reviews are swell and keep me writing...I'll also be posting chapter one of another HP fic staring Tom Riddle as the main character soon enough. It is a plot bunny that has been bothering me for awhile now and needs to be posted, it probably won't get updated as often as this one, with only one chapter every so often or whenever the plot attacks me._


	12. Chapter 12: Dark Lords, Brooms

AN:

Aaaaand here you go! I'm back, and with a new chapter for all you rabid readers out there following

this story! First off, I'd like to say that I'm sooooooo happy with all the reviews, alerts and

follows I've gotten on this and Windchaser. You guys make me feel well loved :D

This isn't a super!long chapter but still rather large, and is a bit jumpy in some areas (at least I think so) due to the fact

that it is one of the converted (and only surviving chapter out of the twelve I had due to a disk error)

chapter that was written ages ago. So I've gone over it a few times, working out the kinks and hoping

I remember where I wanted it to go (certain plot pieces were added in this chapter and without the

other chapters I had written out, I can't be sure what I had intended them for XD)

Also, FF is making a mess of my ' and my " so if you see a spot with a square in it instead of an

' or a ", let me know and I'll fix it. I've also started updating the earlier chapters with new info, better

writing and making it less confusing (I hope so anyway), but have only gotten the first four chapters updated.

I decided to give you lot a new chapter before updating any more of the old ones. I know the formatting for the

updated chapters is off, but I can't seem to figure out why. I'll fix those soon, so if you don't care about

hurting eyes trying to read it, go ahead and read them. I'll put another AN up on a new chapter about the updated

old ones once they are all updated and reformatted.

Also...

I'm aware that this chapter is almost at the end the month of October, while the last

two chapters were at pretty much the beginning of it. Reason being is because I don't want

to do filler chapters that often and don't want to waste the reader's time in over developing

the character's relationships with each other, and we aren't following Harry Potter in this

fic, as such, we won't be seeing all the events he did in the novels, so I will be skipping days

and in some cases, weeks in this fic to keep things going. Flashbacks of important things

that happened, such as events or just random chatter, will be shown when need be and as it

gets closer to the new year (fic time), I will not make the time skipped quite so large. Harry

can't do much without his cloak and he doesn't get it until Christmas, so yeah, not much to

do in way of Sal interacting with him and his friends until at least that point.

Also, more familiar faces to be had!

And again, I have no beta, so forgive me any mistakes that are here.

Onward!

EDIT: Corrected the spelling of Finnigan's surname.

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Dark Lords, Brooms, and trouble oh my.

It was a beautifully bright sunny day this morning, which was a change from the cloudy, yet unusually dry days they've had for the past few weeks. The ceiling was reflecting the beautiful blue sky back at the students while a few straggling owls were gracefully swooping down toward their owners from the rafters; their talons grasping mail of all sorts and sizes. Sal was once again sitting at the Slytherin house table, gazing up sadly at Whistler with a cannon ball settling in his stomach as the owl came toward him. Once again the owl had returned empty taloned from home. Once again he had dared come to Sal without a reply from his normally quill happy Uncle. The lad had been worrying constantly about Vern for quite awhile, almost two whole months in fact.

He had written to him the second day of his being at Hogwarts and got a reply back so fast, he wondered if Vern hadn't somehow guessed what the letter would say and had one waiting for when Whistler arrived. He wrote again two days later and got one letter with Whistler, then another a couple of days later with another owl to give Sal an update on the goings on at the house. But a month and a half ago he sent out a letter to his Uncle with a question and never got a reply back, so he wrote again, thinking that perhaps his Uncle was very busy, and forgot to write.

But after twelve times and still no reply, Sal had finally broken down and spoken to Draco about it in the hopes that perhaps someone else might have a reason, other than death, disowning, or any of the thousands of others Sal had thought of for why a family member wouldn't write back.

He was surprised when his friend said he would ask his father to check on Vern to make sure he hadn't overexcited himself over some new bit of magic he found and dropped dead.

Only a week after the conversation with Draco, the young Malfoy got a reply note from Lucius stating that he was 'unable to locate' the Chantt estate no matter how hard he looked and that the boy should probably try flooing there as soon as he was able, to see what was going on and take a

guard with him just in case...

And Lucius had suggested Snape be the one to accompany him on this journey. It was quite funny how Sal had formed an 'interesting' relationship with the elder Malfoy in only a few letters, when before, he hadn't really seemed like he wanted to even look at Sal, let alone start a 'friendship' with him. Just one letter a week to Lucius since start of term had set the Patriarch on the road into the role of an extra Uncle.

So the boy did take his advice to heart and two days ago Sal approached his Head of House about the situation and the two of them took an hour out of their busy schedules to check on Vern, only to find that the floo was locked and kept tossing the Professor and Salazar back out into Snape's

office. That had Snape confused, confused enough that the man promised someone would be sent to look into it soon, and not to worry himself over what he was sure was nothing; maybe Vern had locked himself in while fooling around with some old things.

But that wasn't good enough for Sal.

Where was his uncle? Why was he unable to get home and why couldn't Lucius find the house? Sal told him where it was so he should have been able to see it. Was it under some other kind of protection aside from what Sal knew? If so, why was it active? Vern should at least be able to

receive mail if there was a problem and even if the house had to be locked down, that shouldn't keep owls from getting in. But the more he thought on it, the more he realized that something big was going on. And somehow he had to get home and see for himself.

As he sat there staring out at the sea of students now settling in around him, he mused on the many different things he had tried already, tossing aside the ideas that would be pointless to repeat and filing the others away for another go. Whistler perched himself on the table in front of

his master, looking balefully at the other owls fluttering here and there. Sal smiled a bit and started to stroke the offered feathered head, feeling sick at the idea that he might have been putting his worries on the shoulders of his pet, who had been getting progressively moody these past

few weeks.

And then it hit him, as he stroked the feathers of his faithful messenger the torch upstairs went on and starting burning brightly; an idea struck like a cannon ball to the head. Darting to his feet ungracefully and bolting out of the Great Hall like a startled rabbit, Sal took off toward the Common room for some privacy so that he could do what he should have done after the third letter failed to yield a reply. The thought had finally come to him after much tossing away of ideas. One thing he hadn't tried stuck out like a bright light in the dungeons. Just this morning before breakfast, Draco had summoned Dobby, his House Elf, to fetch something from home that he needed badly. And now Sal remembered that he had not one, but two loyal elves there at the house that could help him out with this problem.

Hissing out the password in Parseltongue to the portrait of one of Slytherin's children, who didn't seem too happy that the current Heir was ignoring him, Sal took up a position in the middle of the empty Common room with a small, satisfied grin on his face. ‟Corvid!" he shouted, breathing heavily from all that running he had just preformed. Silence greeted him for a moment, making the boy wonder if his Elf was also involved in whatever was

going on at home. Just as Sal was about to call again, a loud crack from behind him signaled the arrival of his Elf.

‟Master Salazar is calling Corvid?" he croaked, looking about the room in great interest as he wrung his hands together nervously.

Sal was a little taken aback that Corvid was calling him 'Master Salazar" instead of 'Master Harry', but decided it wasn't important at the moment and jumped right into his dilemma.

‟Yes, I need to know what is going on with the house. Why hasn't Uncle Vern replied to my letters and why can't I get in by Floo?" It came out in a bit of a rush but Corvid seemed to understand every last word.

‟Corvid is sorry Master Salazar, but Corvid and Wort only be doing what is best for Master's family. Corvid be fixing Master Salazar's confusion now, yes?" The Elf replied, now sounding more apologetic than he looked. He then proceeded to snatch Salazar's hand into his without waiting for Sal to ask him what he meant by all of it, and the two of them disappeared from the Common room, leaving a just arriving First year to gape stupidly at the spot they had been standing in.

They arrived with a pop into the living room of an eerily silent and darker than normal house. All the windows were shut tight and the drapes were sealed magically so that no seams could be seen, causing the place to smell quite musty. Wort was already there, staring back at her younger

master with sparkling eyes that looked to be full of tears. The reason for the tears was unknown, they could be tears of fear or joy, and Sal didn't have more than a few seconds to ponder on them before he was scooped up into a tight hug from behind as a booming voice nearly blew out his

ears.

‟OH GOOD! SO YOU ARE SAFE!"

Sal sputtered a few times while he tried to turn around and get a good look at the person he knew to be his Uncle, only to find himself unable to move because of the man's bear like grip. ‟Uncle, you're squishing me" he gasped out and suddenly felt the air rush back into his abused lungs as his Uncle

released him.

‟I'm sorry Harry, but I've been worried about you for months! No word at all after that one note with your questions, and I was going to reply, but I guess things just got a little busy around here and I forgot!"

Vern threw his hands in the air and started gesturing wildly about the room as if to convey to Salazar just how busy he had been. The dark room had been redone, most of the furnishings had been moved about which was doing a remarkable job of making the room seem more..well...welcoming than before. But it still looked too much like the house of an old lady who enjoyed sinister color schemes and plots of the same.

‟Not three days after your letter a Lethifold somehow got in here and attacked me so we had to lock the house and the Elves wouldn't let me leave. And then some Death Eater shows up trying to get on the lawn multiple times"

Sal's eyebrows shot to the roof as he listened to his flustered Uncle recount the events of the last month with very animated movements. Wait, what Death Eater? And how did he know the person was a Death Eater?

‟And then someone tries to come through the Floo. Well before that some rich looking bloke paced up and down the walk, he looked rather lost but left without causing any trouble" he ranted, running his hands through his hair and then across his moustache while he paced around the room in front of Sal. The young man frowned and walked up to his Uncle, putting his hands up on the man's forearms in an effort to keep his Uncle calm and still enough for answering questions.

‟Wait a minute...Start from the top, slowly...What's been going on here exactly?" he asked, giving the room another look while the House Elves

fidgeted nearby.

Vern came to a complete halt and quickly gathered himself up, eying the Slytherin before him with a slightly embarrassed look..

‟Right, from the beginning then" Sal prompted as Vern took a seat at the small table with him.

‟Well, I got your letter about where you were sorted and who you were making friends with and well, you know all that. You then sent that last one with the question about your mother and I was going to reply but got wrapped up doing other things around the house, I found some new

books and a few hidden tunnels and the likes. Three days later this...Lethifold comes in the house while I was working on some stuff." he paused for a moment, as if trying to figure out a way to relay what happened next in a calm matter.

‟I was sitting on the sofa minding my own business and it came up from behind me and tried to smother me!" he yelped, looking at the spot on the floor near the sofa where it must have been. Sal chanced a glance at the spot but couldn't make anything out aside from a dark stain on the floor.

‟The dust things, those pets of yours up there, came out of nowhere and chased it out of the house and then Wort locked the house down...Well that was alright to keep the thing out but then some Death Eater was poking about. I saw it, standing out there in a hooded robe, just watching the house, testing the wards here and there. He came back a few times and each time he seemed to know exactly where to look!"

Sal's breath hitched as his Uncle stressed that fact; someone other than Lucius knew where they lived and was trying to get in? How was that even possible? Who was it?

‟A few weeks later another person shows up, nice looking chap, quite rich looking. He tries to get on the lawn a few times, looked about a bit like he was missing something and then gave up. Corvid said he felt someone trying to plot the place so he locked the floo too."

Sal leaned back in his chair and looked his Uncle over as he continued his tale. So all of this happened over a Lethifold and a Death Eater who knew where they lived...Great.

‟And then someone tried to get in through the floo a couple of days ago-"

‟That was me and Professor Snape, my Head of House, I was worried about you so we were coming to check on you." The boy said quickly, cutting his Uncle off before he could worry about the identity of the Floo invaders.

‟Oh"

‟Yeah, oh...So, this...Lethifold, it was here you say?" Sal pointed to a spot on the rug that Vern's eyes kept trailing to every so often and after getting a nod from his still terrified Uncle, he rose from his seat and walked over to the spot.

His head suddenly started to hurt, not much, but it tingled a bit and seemed to be reacting to the stain, which turned out to be a melted dead Dust Roo, that was laying there on the floor in the spot where the Lethifold had been.

‟No one's touched it, Corvid said it felt bad so we were going to leave it to the Aurors when the house was let out of lock-down...That one died when it touched the Lethifold...Both it and the Lethifold shrieked when they made contact" he added, still eying the stain with a look of fear and disgust.

Sal hissed in pain as he neared the Dust Roo, clutching his head as a headache hit him full force, and waving his worried Uncle off when he reacted to his Nephew's pain. Whatever it was that the Dust Roos drove off was not a Lethifold. His scar had never hurt like this around Dark creatures, only objects and people...Like his DADA professor. Although, its not like he had been around a lot of Dark creatures, especially not Lethifolds, so he could be wrong about the whole scar thing.

But the main things that bothered him about this supposed Lethifold was that it was all wrong in so many ways.

For one, Lethifolds were like Dementors, they could only be driven away by a Patronus and seeing as Vern was a Squib, he wouldn't be able to cast one. And if what he said was true, and the Dust Roos did indeed scare it off, then it must have been something that would react to the Dark Magic the Roos were made of.

Secondly, it attacked a non-sleeping person, which Lethifolds do not do. They waited until their prey is asleep before feeding. And on the last note, Lethifolds were native to the Tropics, so now the identity of the attacking creature was definitely in question. For now, Sal wouldn't tell his Uncle that it wasn't a Lethifold that attacked him, because he wasn't sure what it was and there was no need to terrify his Uncle any more than he is now. And he would dub the strange beast the Not-Lethifold until he knew what to call it.

‟Harry, you didn't tell anyone where we lived did you?" Vern inquired softly, pulling Sal from his thoughts with a searching flinched again at the usage of his birth name, but let it slide. Vern seemed to be oblivious to the reaction anyway and there was no need to tell him off..yet.

‟No, I haven't told anyone aside from Lucius Malfoy and he was the rich bloke that was looking lost...wait..Hang on" Sal turned around and moved away from the Dust Roo with a look of concentration on his face. ‟I might have said something to a Professor once because he asked how my home life was."

Vern sighed and ran his hands over his face in a tired gesture.

And there it was. The bumbling idiot had blabbed to someone, Sal was sure of it; how else would people know how to get on the lawn and into the house? It was normally un-plottable except for blood relatives and it was also under the Fidelius Charm to keep others out, with both Sal and Vern as the only Secret-Keepers, it had to be Sal's fault this happened though, as Vern would never tell anyone about where the house was, he was too worried someone would come and take it away. So the fool that taught DADA must have let slip of where the house was and then some how, a Death Eater must have let the Not-Lethifold in and when that failed he tried to get in himself after the lock-down.

But suddenly Sal's brain seized up. The house was under the Fidelius Charm, which means Quirrell had to be the one who was testing the wards, not a Death Eater, seeing as he wasn't a Secret-Keeper himself...Unless Sal telling him made him one in some way. His head hurt just thinking about how the Fidelius Charm worked.

What was his DADA professor doing here? And why would he let that, Not-Lethifold in?

And again his mind started to work in overdrive. No, it wasn't Quirrell because the man has been at Hogwarts watching him for sometime now, and wouldn't have been able to sneak off more than once to attack the wards on the house without Sal knowing.

And the only person who could find this house outside of a Secret-Keeper and the persons they've told...Would have to be family. The house was keyed to the blood of the Chantts...and through Sal...The Riddles.

It had to be him...Voldemort. He was back...

That's who was trying to get in, that's who was trying to kill Vern...Voldemort.

‟Um, Uncle, I think you should re-key the wards...That wasn't a Death Eater out there. I mean, you and I are the only Secret-Keepers, and the only people I've told are Lucius Malfoy, who is a friend and was quite lost when he came here and the DADA professor, but said professor has been following me around school and he isn't the kind who would do something like this. He is afraid of his own shadow! And we know the wards are keyed to the Channt blood and those who are in direct relation to them...so" He let it hang, hoping he wouldn't have to say what was on his mind. But Vern hadn't caught on yet, and his next words proved it.

‟Harry, the Chantts are dead save for you and me. We are the last."

‟True, but I do have a non-Chantt relation too, Uncle...Tom Riddle, and the Headmaster said all the other Riddles were Muggles and are dead...So that means the one who was trying to get in was a Wizard and that someone..."

‟Was your father"

‟Yes"

There, realization had come to pass and both of the human occupants of the house were breathless and pale. The Elves seemed lost, as if not understanding what was so bad about their Master Salazar's father trying to get in the house.

‟Corvid be wondering why Masters wish to keep Master Salazar's father out?" Corvid looked between the two humans there, keeping himself out of reach in case they decided to lash out.

Wort, however, was braver than her brother and chose to put her hand on Sal's knee, looking up at him with her teary eyes. ‟Was Master Salazar's father mean to him?"

‟No...I don't know" Sal frowned in thought, wondering if his father had ever been cruel. He couldn't remember his father at all, or his mother. He didn't even know if they had kept him long after his birth.

Vern was a little confused and looked over at Sal slowly. ‟Why are they using your middle name?"

Sal smirked and patted Wort's hand gently. ‟Oh, I hate the name Harry, seeing as Harry Potter is in school and the two of us are getting along _Famously_. I can't stand to be called by his name. Besides, Salazar fits me better."

Vern pursed his lips together but didn't say anything about the whole idea, though Sal could tell that he didn't like the fact that he was tossing away the name his mother gave him.

‟Or does Masters wish to keep him out for being a Mud-blood?" Corvid sneered suddenly, directing the conversation back on track.

Normally Sal would have said something about the term 'Mudblood'. But seeing as both Corvid and Wort had been taught by him that the term Mud-blood was not to be used when speaking of Muggleborns unless they were against Sal and his ideals, he knew that Corvid was using the title as a duel meaning. Both filthy blood, if they had it, and blood traitor. If they were pure, then it would just mean Blood traitor and unworthy of magic or respect. And the meaning 'Blood Traitor' could also be used to mean a literal 'traitor of your blood' or 'traitor to the family', which is what Tom Riddle was currently.

Sal had decided to use the term to label an unworthy Wizard or Witch who had Muggle or creature blood in their family, or if they were pure and had done something that would make them a disgrace to magic, their families or Sal. This would allow his Grims and those who followed their ideals to insult someone with such lineage, either creature, Muggle or Pure, with something other than just the traditional 'Blood Traitor'. Letting them use the term 'Mudblood' freely, which they so loved doing, but not on those who could be allies, no matter the blood status. Muggleborns reacted perfectly to the insult of Mud-blood, so others who weren't Pure, and even the Pure ones would as well.

Sal knew that no matter the side the person was on, even those who followed him would be insulted if they heard Mud-blood being tossed at someone who was the same blood status as themselves, but that was what this whole thing was about; it was not about your blood status so much anymore as it was where you stood in the world.

Sal himself could be considered a Mud-blood with his new law, but he didn't care; no one would have the guts to call him such when he was Wraith and had the world in fear of him. His Grims liked the idea, but still had to learn that not all Muggleborns were Mud-bloods...That was a long road to pave so it seemed.

‟He's dangerous, that's all you need to know for now. He's dangerous and angry so he'll do things he may not mean and needs to be kept out until he calms down." Sal wasn't sure if his father meant them harm or not, but he could hope that his possible mentor was just pissy because of Potter and what happened that Halloween night.

Sal had no intention of letting Voldemort be his father, because he had his Uncle for the fatherly things, and quite frankly, his Uncle was starting to grate on his nerves as well, he didn't need two father figures in his life telling him what to do.

‟Of course Master..." Corvid and Wort said in unison, backing away from the thinking pre-teen.

‟Well, I'm glad that Lethifold didn't hurt you Uncle, and the house is pretty much in once piece."

he drawled, glancing at the broken pots and vases around the area where Vern had been fighting

the Not-Lethifold.

‟But I have to get back now, Flying lessons today...I'll start giving the letters to Corvid to deliver to you instead of using Whistler, I don't think you should unlock the house just yet, oh and leave that Roo there, just cover it with something so that you don't have to look at it."

Vern smiled gently though he looked a little put out that his Nephew was leaving so soon. He snatched the boy up in another bear hug and then patted his head as Sal told Corvid to get ready.

‟Yes, I think it's wise that we keep the house locked, and you better send letters often young man, so that I don't have to come over there and see what you're up to" he mock scolded, earning a smile from Sal, who was bent over trying to stuff something into a backpack he had lying near

the Floo. The boy noticed that his Uncle didn't say anything about the Roo or the suggestion to cover it up.

‟Don't worry, I'll make sure you get one at least once a week depending on what's going on there"

And with those parting words, Corvid gripped Sal's hand and popped him back into the Common Room, right into the gaze of a very worried looking Draco. If he had remained behind a few minutes longer, he would have noticed Wort chasing off a small adder from inside the fireplace back into the garden by way of elf magic. And if he had stayed a little longer than that, he would have seen the little adder move to the hill before it transformed into a scraggly man, with dirty blond hair, wearing an odd assortment of tattered old robes that screamed 'old style Death Eater'. He might have even seen his odd twitch, which involved his tongue darting out of his mouth every so often, quite like his Animagus form, before vanishing with a pop into thin air.

* * *

‟And that's why I couldn't get in contact with him" finished Sal, watching the rest of his year mates run ahead to get a good broom for the lesson. He had just told Draco and Theo about the events of the morning, leaving out the fact that he thought the Lethifold was something else, and that he had snatched two things from the house; one was a thing he could use to test a theory, the other was a strange glass bottle with a thread of light that moved like water inside it.

‟Bloody hell, the Dark Lord was trying to get in your house...Wicked, though I hope the Lethifold was just a gift gone wrong and not an assassination attempt."

Theo rolled his eyes at the denseness of his friend as Sal went at the blonde for being intentionally thick.

‟Draco, that thing nearly killed my Uncle, I don't think it was a gift of the good sort."

‟Right, sorry" Draco said sheepishly, reminding Sal that Neville hadn't yet caught up with them.

The first years soon assembled in front of a line of battered brooms as their instructor gave them all a once over before addressing the class. ‟Alright class! This is your first flying lesson, and it may be your last if you don't follow all of my instructions...Are we clear?" Hooch barked, making many of the Gryffindors flinch as everyone hurried to nod in agreement.

Sal glanced over at Theo and mouthed ‟Where's Neville?". Theo's reply was a shrugged ‟I don't know". They both looked to Draco and Gregory, who shrugged in response to the same mouthed question. Where was their shy little friend?

Madam Hooch continued to give out the instructions on how to position your hands over the brooms to receive them when they responded to your commands. And it was just about the time that Sal had started to get his hand into the proper position to call his broom, when he heard the familiar voice of Neville Longbottom from behind him.

‟Sorry bout that, I had to talk to a friend right quick...Oh...Brooms. Lovely." he groaned, taking up a spot next to Draco and Theo. Both of them started to bombard him with questions about this friend he was talking to, a friend that Neville was very closed lipped about for some reason. Sal was suspicious but he wasn't going to pester the boy about who he was friends with...yet.

Hooch noticed that Neville had joined them and perhaps thought he hadn't been there the whole time she was giving out the previous instructions, and it was for that reason, Sal figured, that she gave the class another shot with them.

‟Alright class, now that you're all ready, I want you to place your right hand over your brooms and say very firmly, UP!"

There was a chorus of ‟UP" in many different pitches and moods. Some were thinking that firm meant angry, others were nervous and had squeaking voices. Only about half of the class managed to get the brooms to move at all, while only a handful out of that had their brooms in hand.

Sal and Draco were part of that handful and had gotten it on the first try, while Neville had to say it a couple more times to get the results. Gregory and Vincent were red in the face and still trying to get their brooms to twitch, while down the line, the distinct sounds of laughter could be heard.

‟Shut up Harry" Weasley moaned, rubbing his busted nose from where his broom had collided while Potter snorted a few more times in a feeble attempt to stifle his laughter. Hermione continued to say ‟UP!" In a rather convincing growl that shouldn't ever come out of a lady, much less one of her class. Soon all the students had their brooms in hand, some had gotten the broom to obey and the others had to bend over and pick them up when Hooch put her back to them.

‟Aright everybody, I want you to mount your brooms...You know better than that McGregor!" Hooch shouted over to the taller than most Slytherin Third year who was miming a rather mature movement on his broom. From what Sal knew of the boy, which was very little as he really didn't talk to any of the younger years, McGregor was taking the broom course here to prove he could actually fly, as he had been home schooled abroad until this year and the tutor he supposed had didn't get high marks from the school board. Sal figured he was still technically a Firstie due to this, but the boy seemed quite able to hold his own in many subjects, even with the years above him. He was supposed to be trying out for the House Team this year if he could pass the flying test today.

McGregor just shrugged half-heartedly before settling onto his broom proper and shooting his younger house mates a dazzling smile. Sal noticed that Neville's eyes lingered on McGregor a bit longer than anyone else, and that the smile McGregor had shot them all seemed more aimed at said first year than the whole class; Neville's mysterious friend might not be so mysterious after all, Sal thought.

Most of the Slytherins were now fighting back fits of laughter, which the Gryffindors seemed unable to do, even silently. All of them were howling and hooting, some whistling and pounding their thighs with their fists. Sal kept his cool as he watched the scene unfold before him, and humorously enough, so did Potter. McGregor only seemed to preen even more under the attention he had drawn, making Sal wonder just who this kid was.

Hooch got the lot of them to calm down after threatening detentions to all those who weren't quiet in the next five seconds, aimed at the Firsties, or a school life long ban from Quidditch,aimed a quickly paling McGregor, before finally the class could continue. It was, for the most part, uneventful, unless one was counting Neville losing control of his broom and crashing into the ground, thus sparking a broom chase between Seamus Finnigan, Salazar Chantt and Harry Potter, an event worth mentioning.

Draco wasn't counting it as such, seeing as it painted Slytherin in a bad light in more ways than one; mostly Sal's Gryffindor like action, but McGregor wasn't helping any when he crowed "Make em pay Sal!". Finnigan-The-Prat had of course found Neville's Rememberall when it fell from his pocket in the fall, and had started to call the shy lad quite a few unflattering names when Hooch had marched Neville off to the Hospital wing. Potter hadn't taken to the idea, nor had Sal and both of them were in the air after Finnigan before Hermione could get a word in

edgewise.

Sal felt like he was suddenly free as he kicked off the ground with all his might. All the worries and weight of the world seemed to fade into the background as he rose higher and higher into the air, though a part of him was also shrieking about having no earth under him to cling to and something about foolish heroics. Potter was also feeling the freedom part, or so Sal guessed from his overly relaxed expression. Both of them appeared to be naturals on a broom, which didn't look to be the case with Finnigan, who was trying not to fall off of his while still holding the orb.

But the feeling of freedom in Sal didn't last long as his brain brought him back into reality with the terrifying truth that although he was a natural born flier, he was terribly afraid of heights. Jerking himself into the game at hand, he focused on his prey; he wasn't up here to have fun or let his fear get away with him, he needed to keep the Rememberall from being destroyed, if for nothing else, just to keep up Slytherin's honor. No Gryffindor was going to get away with handling a Slytherin's belongings. Oh how he wanted to put his feet back on the ground and forget it all.

‟Seamus...Stop!" Potter called suddenly, bringing his broom to a halt next to his sneering house mate. ‟What are you doing? Just give it ba-"

‟Yes, do give it back Seamus before someone gets hurt." Sal's icy snarl cut across Potter as he tried to reason with his fellow. Salazar hated people who took things that didn't belong to them, hated them with a passion that wasn't entirely his own. A frown crossed his features for a moment as he pondered on this new found hatred.

‟Nah, I think the snake could do with some more flying lessons. Maybe I should leave it up here somewhere for him to find, eh?"

Both Potter and Finnigan started to physically fight for the Rememberall, which ended in Finnigan almost being knocked off his broom by an over zealous Potter. As a last resort, Finnigan tossed it away in anger, hoping it would smash before either his house mate, or the Slytherin could reach it.

He wasn't counting on the two to dive like a pair of falcons after a swallow, side by side, reaching out simultaneously to grab the medium sized orb. And somewhere, in the back of Salazar's mind, he could hear a high pitched scream of fright that he didn't recognize, and it only stopped once he pulled up to level the broom out.

‟Let go" Sal stated cooly, looking down at his hand where Potter was griping it painfully. He had the Rememberall, yet Potter had been just quick enough to get two fingers around the orb, so now they were being held in place by Sal's hand.

‟I can't, you have my fingers in a death grip" he replied, almost as cooly, but failed to hide the pain he was feeling from Sal's grip.

With a gentle flick of his wrist, Sal let go of the orb, tossing it from one hand to the other so that Potter could get the use of his hand back. They stayed there for a moment, just regarding each other in silence and well placed glares, before a loud shout from below brought them back to reality. There was a sinking feeling settling into the young Slytherin's stomach as he gazed down, trying not to notice how high up he was, at the voice who was summoning them. The shout had been a few seconds too late warning from McGregor, who was pointing at a figure that was almost running toward the class. It was none other than the Gryffindor Head of House, which meant that Salazar was royally screwed in so many ways.

But he only lost twenty points and didn't get a detention like he thought he would. The points were given back later by Snape for ‟Services to the noble House of Slytherin", so it wasn't a true loss. Potter on the other hand, gained plenty of points and a position on the Gryffindor Quidditch

team; the resulting shouting match between Potter and Draco over it was amusing to say the least.

The evening progressed rather nicely after all that ruckus, or so Salazar thought, until his blonde headed friend had come running up to him with a grin plastered on his face, claiming to have a duel set with both Potter and Weasley that night. One that he told Filch about and would not be showing up to. All Sal could do was moan in defeat.

Little did the two of them know that a lone figure had been watching them from the shadows during the whole Flying class. This figure had sneered in disgust at the foolishness of Salazar's Gryffindorish response to the theft of the Rememberall. But this figure's heart had also stopped when the boy

had engaged in that death defying dive for said Rememberall, only resuming its beating when the boy had both feet back on the ground.

_'He will be the death of me yet'_ The figure thought with a sigh, as he made his way back to the school behind the boys to give them points for ‟Services to the noble House of Slytherin".

* * *

_'Okay, so I need to concentrate on...on what now?'_ Salazar frowned down at his Advanced Transfigurations book that The Grey Ghost had lent him for the afternoon. He was only suppose to be reading up on the meditating, finding one's animal, and viewing one's animal sections. However, Salazar didn't want to waste his time doing the steps he already had down. The separation of animal and wizard minds was a troublesome part of his transformation, and that was what he was focusing on right now. Of course he knew he wasn't suppose to transform into his snake form without being older and being under the watchful eyes of his Transfiguration Professor, but then again he wasn't planning on actually going through with the transformation currently, just doing the mind separation exercises. The book didn't stress that one had to be in their animal form to do this, in fact, it didn't say anything about transforming at all for most of the chapter. But Sal had a sneaking suspicion that one had to actually be in their animal form to make any progress. Which is why he was so frustrated with the chapter he was reading.

_'Sure, get my hopes up of being able to change and yet not be trapped as Shimmerscale for the rest of my life in case of an accident, only to forget to mention the part where one has to loose themselves in the animal form first'_ he thought savagely, slamming the book closed and huffing in irritation as a passing ghost sneered "Really now" at his attitude. So lost in thought was Sal that he didn't even notice where his feet took him until he almost stepped on his beloved pet serpent in the dorms.

_'Sssspeaker, you mussst watch where you put your feet'_ she hissed gently, climbing up a bed post when he flopped down onto the mattress.

_'Sssorry, Darkssscale. My mind isss elssse where right now'_ Sal indicated the the book and opened it to the chapter he had been pursuing earlier in the halls. The snake stared down at it for a moment before turning confused eyes to her master, who took the hint and read out the whole page and then addressed his problem.

_'Ah, ssso the book doess not give you proper informationsss'_ she glared at the offending book for a moment, then slithered onto Sal's lap with an excited air._ 'Guessss what I tasssted thisss evening on the air?'_ Sal looked the serpent over and then shrugged. _'What did you tassste?'_ he asked, as he stood up to get ready for another day re-potting that damn snake plant in the green house. He placed Darkscale on the bed and laughed when she wiggled like a small child that had a secret they couldn't wait to share with the whole family.

_'Another ssserpent!'_ she almost shouted with glee. _'A male, a very powerful male who issss unattached, yet ssstill tasstes of wizardsss'_

Sal froze in place for a moment, hoping that it was indeed just a serpent who was around wizards and not his father in his Animagus form. Then again, was his father even an Animagus? Or was he a full Shifter by now? Or did he not even have a single form to boast while his son at least one.

shaking his head to clear away the worry, Sal pulled on a pair of a dragon scale gloves and used them to keep Draco's plant, now dubbed "McBites", from leaving his pot again.

_'If you find thisss ssserpent, make sssure you do not loosse your head. It could be my father in hisss Animagusss form.'_ Darkscale snorted as best a snake could and gave Salazar one of her 'gee you are stupid' looks. _'Your Father isss unable to get sssuch a form, he wasssn't very good at transssforming himssself. Besssidess, thiss male isss younger, ssstill old enough to be your father in age, but not old enough to be **him**'_

Sal just rolled his eyes at his serpent's obvious crush on this unknown, young, male serpent, while he gave McBites a pat on the head. _'Jussst watch yoursself. We don't need you sstarting a brood ssso sssoon'_ he teased, dodging his pet's attempt to strike, closed mouthed of course, at his rear as he left the dorms in search of his classmates. He didn't have to go far before he found Draco standing in the middle of the hall, talking in a hushed tone with the Third year Slytherin, McGregor, who was running his hands through his already messy brown-blond hair. Obviously, from the motions Draco was making and the careful shifting and showing of the medallion Hermione had made for the Grims, he was trying to recruit the older boy into Sal's order. It appeared to be doing the trick, while at the same time it was also amusing the boy, who was now looking at Salazar with eyes far too old for a thirteen year old wizard.

By now Sal was level with Draco and smirked when the blond jumped at his sudden arrival. "Whoa! Geez, what did you do, put a Taboo on your name or something? All I did was say your name and 'poof' here you are"

Sal just smiled and shook his head before motioning at his gloved hands. "Nope, was just heading out to the green houses, you trying to corrupt an innocent young mind in search of nothing but a place on the House Team, ?" Draco rolled his eyes at the nickname Theo had given him a week ago due to Draco's wintery attitude when things didn't go his way. "No, I wouldn't do such a thing. McGregor here was just interested in joining a more civilized group of students, that's all"

McGregor continued to stare at Sal with those same older-than-they-should-be eyes, which Sal just now noticed after all these weeks of knowing him, were an odd sort of brown that held not only power, but more than a hint of clever madness as well. He gave Sal a cocky grin that made him appear very shark like, before he leaned in closely and took one of Sal's gloved hands into a shake. "Oh, I do believe I would love to be a part of such a group. After all, I've already got some experience from...ah...previous training"

Both Draco and Sal exchanged a very nervous glance between them as McGregor let out a manic laugh that sent chills down their spines.


End file.
